There but for the Grace
by Degan
Summary: Complete! The moral dilemmas of a vampire hunting vampires, the thoughts of various characters as feelings come to the front, and a new enemy calls for another alliance with Iscariot. New characters, new baddies, AxI, WHR crossover, Guest stints by vario
1. Quandary of the soul

_The smells that I have come to relish are almost visible here. Blood, desperation, smoke, gunpowder, sweat, and fear._

_Fear makes a most wonderful bouquet, sweetening the blood, heightening the bloodlust and cracking the whip of survival._

Alucard grinned, his lips peeling back from his teeth, fangs gleaming in the low light of the moon. He looked up, moonlight glinting from the lenses of his glasses. He let loose a light chuckle as he saw the target off in the distance.

"Target is confirmed. Releasing control arts restriction to level three."

He faded from sight, leaving only his laughter in the air where he had been standing.

* * *

_Blimey, it never ends. Damned FREAKS. _Seras Victoria shouldered her Halconnen and hopped out of the APC followed by several Hellsing troops. She jogged up to the low wall, and motioned for the men under her command to spread out and take up firing positions around the perimeter.

Three years now. She had been a commander in the group for three years now, and a free vampire for half of that time. Though nowhere near the power of her former master, she had a few tricks that were useful, as well as equipment that was better for short range skirmishes.

She glanced over at the lieutenant crouching a few meters down from her, the modified P-90 rifle held in his hands as he scanned the area. He looked back and held up his hand, two fingers pointing at his eyes, then held a fist and looped a finger in a single circle.

Seras sighed. At least five FREAKS, at various points in the building, confirming her count. She was going to loose some men on this operation, no way around it. These latest version of the artificial vampires were almost as fast as she and Alucard, eerily reminiscent of the Valentine brothers. She slammed an incendiary shell into the breach of her cannon, snapping it shut and got the attention of her two unit leaders. She held up her fist, looping the finger once to indicate the number and position of the enemy, then clenched her fist again and then spread her fingers. The troops spread out, keeping low and weapons aimed inside.

She knew that in all likelihood, as soon as a soldier got upwind of one of the targets, surprise would be gone, so she had to get this off soon and quickly ended.

She turned slightly, poking the top of her head over the wall, getting a good grip on the grips of her cannon. She was glad for the light mists that coated the area; it gave some cover and helped her blend in more. She had chosen to go with a more formal uniform since she had been promoted to command; a closefitting bodystocking sheathed her from shoulders to ankles, tucked into her combat boots. She had a worn navy tunic on over that, her insignia in the appropriate spots, a flak vest hanging open over that, with ammo clips and a Royal Marine combat knife showing.

Strapped to her thigh was the new gun Walter had given her, based on the same principles of the .454 Casull. It fired a modified .50 ACP round, nine round magazines, and seemed to fit in her hand just as the Halconnen had. Walter hadn't given it a name, but she had one. She dubbed it the Gravedigger, after seeing the furrow it left in a target.

She scanned the area and then stood, throwing the barrel of her weapon over the low wall, and began squeezing the trigger as a FREAK's eyes popped open at the sight of the huge gun.

_Blast, _she thought. _How'd he get that close? _The question became moot as the shell rocketed out, carrying the abomination back a few meters before it exploded. Automatic weapons fire erupted as soldiers hopped the wall, Heckler & Koch MP5 and MP5K, FN-Herstal P-90, and SIG SG 552 muzzle flares lighting the night.

She dropped the Halconnen, whipping out her Gravedigger and squeezed of a round, taking a ghoul in the chest and dusting it efficiently, the round continuing on to throw a FREAK off its feet, shoulder exploding as the round tore into its flesh.

She heard the cry of a soldier, followed by the crunch of bone and a rifle flicker died out. _Damn it, there goes one. _She fired again, the slide locking back as the last shell ejected. Pulling a fresh mag from her vest as she hit the clip release button, she slid the new series of rounds in quick fashion, using her sped up reflexes to get the clip in and slide blowing forward almost as soon as the spent magazine had cleared the grip.

Time slowed, and she caught movement out of the corner of her eye. She dropped, posting a hand on the damp ground and whipped her leg out behind her, knocking the legs of a ghoul out from underneath it. As it struggled to get up, she put the barrel of the pistol to its head and fired.

She felt her blood starting to run, rushing through her veins as it did in combat. She recognized the bloodlust and gave in to it slightly, knowing that her troops were hardly a match against the FREAKS and the ghouls.

She grinned, her eyes shadowing.

* * *

_Hmmph, lowly creature. Hardly worth my time, _thought Alucard as he began to phase into being behind the FREAK stalking a human couple. He projected an illusion into the mind of the artificial creature, causing it to break off its hunt and look around in confusion. He stepped into the beings mind, intoning lightly to himself, fulfilling the restriction interlock cycle.

"Situation C, keeping the power unlocked until the target has been silenced." He brought his voice up, bringing the attention to himself. "Is this how you hunt, shadows and slinking? I would have thought a creature of your power would be bolder than that."

The FREAK whirled, snarling. It flicked the wings of its jacket aside, pulling out a cut down 20-gauge shotgun.

_Mmm, this could be fun._

The first blast took his left arm off, then his right hip exploded. He regenerated the body parts, letting out an echoing laugh as he did so, pulling his Jackal from his suit jacket. He pointed it at his target.

"Wonderful. My turn." He fired, splintering the scattergun, and then pumped a shot into his target's skull, its body turning to dust.

He released the illusion, wind blowing the dust away. He tucked the pistol away, sending his thoughts out to Integra.

_Limited power release completed. The target has been eternally silenced._

He apparated from the scene, questing mind catching the flickers of glee from Seras as she gave into the more base instincts of their kind.

His laugh echoed through the night. _Enjoy it, Police Girl. Revel in the life blood of combat. Rejoice, as it makes you stronger._

He considered making an appearance, but turned the thought down. She was a No Life Queen, fully empowered to defend herself in these situations.

* * *

Seras caught the thread of thought sent from her former master as she slammed a fourth clip into her Gravedigger.

She came out of her battle-state, looking around. Several piles of dust littered the area, but there were still ghouls and a FREAK left, and some of the Hellsing troops had moved to tend to the wounded, disposing of those that would turn. She released the slide on her pistol, hearing it slam a round into the chamber. She knew that the last FREAK was in the tiny building, hiding. She smiled, setting herself.

To any that would have watched, they would have assumed that the fog between them suddenly grew thicker, obscuring her outline, and then she was gone.

She drifted into the building, merged with the fog that seeped into every nook and cranny of the ramshackle shed. There, an old M-1 rifle pointed at the door was the last FREAK. She allowed herself to reincorporate and drew back the hammer on her pistol, causing him to whirl at the sound. Both weapons fired at the same time, the roar of her pistol drowning out the sharp crack of the ancient rifle. The FREAK flew back as Seras burst into cloud of mist again, the bullet passing harmlessly through her body. She started to holster the pistol when she heard the scrabbling of hands on wood. Turning, she saw the FREAK pulling itself up to a sitting position, the wound in its head healing over as the silver round was forced out, clinking on the floor.

_Damn monster, _she thought as she ejected the magazine, exchanging it for Mercury ignition rounds. She pumped two rounds into its head, and another into its heart for good measure. The body burst into flames as she triggered the charges, and she left the shed to take a counting of the casualties.

Out of the fifteen men that had come in with her, she had twelve at one hundred percent. One had caught a round that had passed through a ghoul and was being tended by the team medic as she looked around. The other two were already being sealed into body bags to be cremated and given state burials.

Two good men, dead because someone wanted to create havoc in the world. Sometimes men seemed more monstrous than the beasts she had just disposed of. But close on the heels of that thought came the thought that she was protecting innocent people from being harmed, just as she had as a police officer, though she felt her teeth grind at the thought of the wasteful deaths.

And again, the thought passed like a cloud on her mind. _In the condemning of these monsters, I protect people. But am I doomed to the same pit in Hell by virtue of what I am?_

"Such thoughts are unbecoming, Police Girl," purred a saccharine voice from behind her.

She turned, seeing Alucard standing there, his hat set haphazardly across his head. He came forward and took her by the shoulders. He had been kinder, almost fatherly towards her since the incident with Incognito. He looked at her, eyes partially shaded by his glasses.

"Remember, the acts we carry out are in the defense of those that have no defense. That in itself is a noble act. Plus," he looked around at the piles of dust. "It lets us out to have a bit of fun from time to time." He let out a low chuckle.

Seras smirked at this. He was right, but that didn't mean that she still didn't have the occasional doubt.

He caught the glimmer of that doubt in her eyes. Stepping back, his figure growing indistinct, he murmured a final thought as his glasses and Cheshire cat grin winked out of view.

"There but for the grace of God, Seras. There but for the grace,"

_Indeed. There but for grace of God go I. _she thought. _But where am I going to wind up?_

She looked down at the pistol in her hand, at the inscription on the sides.

_"Liberate tutemet timor"

* * *

_

A/N: Just kind of sprung to my mind one day, what would a vampire hunting vampires wonder about in a moral morass? I have some ideas to continue this, but they are still in development. Feel free to burn if you wish.

Oh, Hellsing is property of yada yada yada...we all know this already.


	2. Meetings and Philosophies

A/N: new chapter, new character, new views on unlife. Thanks to the guys that reviewed the first chapter, and yes, I am basing it more on the anime since I can't find a store anywhere that carries the manga...and since I can't read Japanese, I'm somewhat in a spot.

Disclaimer: I don't own Hellsing...sadly...though I do admire the prospect of a second set/movie coming out...anyone got a lead on that?

* * *

The empty magazine dropped from the bottom of the pistols handgrip, clunking dully on the asphalt. Drawing a fresh one from his pack, the man grimly shoved it into his weapon and released the slide.

The FREAK was heading for the edge of the roof, leaping into space. He felt his lips quirk at this. This one was too young to survive the fall unharmed. He reached the building's edge and gazed down at the creature as it landed, the sound of its bones snapping clear to his ears. He stepped onto the buildings raised edge, dropping off the side. He landed smoothly, little more than the ruffle of his jacket and his satchel moving about breaking the stillness. The crippled FREAK tried to crawl away, its fingers scrabbling in the bricks that made up the alleyway, it's legs already drawing back into the proper shapes and angles.

He moved up and put his boot in the middle of the beasts back, halting its movement. He centered the pistol on the back of its head, feeling the grin tugging at the corners of his lips, but killed the urge. He stared at the FREAK as it twisted, staring up at him, fear distorting its face.

All that the FREAK saw was a shadowed face, framed by long locks of rust colored hair. His eyes, a strange grey-blue, reflected no light from the lamps in the alley. They were the coldest, hardest orbs that it had ever gazed into. The leather duster and the battered satchel showed the wear of years of duty. The fingerless gloves creaked as the hand holding the pistol tightened.

"It's been real fun, but I'm tired of this game. Any last words?" He pulled the trigger. "Didn't think so."

As he secreted the pistol beneath his jacket again, he scattered the pile of ash with his booted foot. The third FREAK in as many days. It was getting out of control. Reaching the alley's mouth, he stuck a thin cigar in his mouth and chewed on the tip before lighting it, the sweet smell of cherry and vanilla wafting up. He scratched at the stubble on his chin as he pulled out a folded piece of paper.

_FREAK infestation growing. Source unknown, Das Millennium group underground now. Contact Sir Integra Hellsing, Bloomsbury, London, England. Documents for travel will await you at JFK international._

Hmmpph. So he couldn't just go and apparate to England. _Bloody fools, _he thought. _Who are they to tell me how to go about my travel? _

He sighed, a large cloud of sweet smelling smoke wafting out with his frustration. Such thoughts were poisonous, detrimental to his efforts. He knew when he volunteered for this group that he would be taking certain limitations and restrictions onto his person. He smiled in the dim light of the streetlights as he left the alleyway. His teeth gleamed, his canines still enlarged from the fight. He reached a corner and glanced around, getting his bearings.

A mist gathered, cloaking the street. Just before he apparated, he glanced up at the moon, gazing at it's full circle. _What a wonderful night. _

_I wonder if that red-coated maniac is still kicking.

* * *

_

"Your orders, my Master?" said a red-coated vampire, in the stillness of the office. Sir Integra Wingates Hellsing looked up, a cigar still smouldering in her lips. Alucard stood before her desk.

She pushed a small file folder towards him. "This came in from an American organization this morning. It was addressed to me, and curiously enough, to you indirectly."

The vampire raised an eyebrow as a sarcastic smile spread on his lips. "To me, Master? I'm touched. I haven't received fan mail since that time in Arabia. Or was it Armenia? You sent me on so many runs after Incognito that they blend in my mind."

She gestured impatiently at the folder in his hands. "Open the blasted thing. It's been sealed such that you are the only one that could open it."

This furrowed Alucards brow. A message from America, sealed so that he alone could open it? He picked up the folder, and noticed that a seal similar to the ones on his gloves and hands was set in the wax holding the thick material closed. At his touch, the seal lit up, melting the wax. He opened the folder and glanced over the documents inside, a sly grin lighting up his face.

"Well, this is a welcome surprise. It seems," he said, laying the papers on Integra's desk. "That an old friend is coming for a visit. He has been ordered to aid with the FREAK outbreak, since they are funneling through England."

Integra looked at the dossier in front of her. "James Hunter," she said. Her face narrowed as she frowned. "Why haven't I heard of him before now?"

"Well, Master," quipped the vampire. "You never asked."

"I'm asking now, Alucard."

Leaning back in the chair, Alucard gazed back in the mists of time. "He is a Dhampir, a mixed blood. Neither Human nor Vampire, he carries our powers, our thirst, yet is unaffected by the sun. Many of my kind see his kind as an abomination, an affront to their Vampiric pride."

The woman sitting across from him raised an eyebrow, familiar with this particular vampire's mannerisms. "And you?" she asked.

"I found him to be absolutely entertaining and a capable fighter. I haven't seen him since the War, however. Walter should remember him as well." He gestured to the folder in her hands. "If he is coming here, than it means that whoever he is working for now views the FREAKS as big a threat as we do. Possibly more so."

Integra scanned the papers again. "I see nothing here noting when he will arrive, or how to contact him. Does that imply," she narrowed her eyes. "That he can appear unannounced?"

The Cheshire cat grin flashed as he phased out of the room.

"No more so than I, my Master. It seems that he is arriving by airline."

"How do you know this?" she called into the air.

"Because I can sense his frustration from here. It's delightful."

* * *

_I hate these blasted things, _Hunter thought as the plane bucked a bit in turbulence. _Or rather, I hate not being behind the controls. I've got more hours in aircraft than these fools have breathed. _He forced himself to relax. Letting his unease overwhelm him would be worse than anything else he could do now. Calm, he must maintain his peace. He turned up the volume on his CD player, the strains of _Moth _by Over the Rhine comforting him.

He smiled grimly, keeping his teeth masked. Imagine him, a Dhampir, one who has wiped out ghouls and FREAKS without a second thought, reveling in the violence of battle and bloodlust, attempting to maintain an almost Buddhist calm and listening to a song debating the greater hurts of death and separation. He had thought himself a study in contrasts more times than this. He pulled out the folder from his satchel, making sure not to disturb the weapons hidden by various means.

_You are transferred to and will work with the Hellsing operatives, answerable ultimately to Sir Integra Hellsing. Share with her what information that would be pertinent to the mission, but no further. Use your discretion in this operation. Make sure that the primary mission goal is achieved._

He chuckled. Transferred back to Hellsing. Things seemed to move in circles. The last time he had been home, in Surrey, it had been just prior to the outbreak of World War II. He had been asked by a rather polite young man by the name of Walter to aide in the battle, since the Nazi's had been dabbling in the black arts. It was during that time that he had met Alucard, and learned why the Nosferatu referred to the man as the 'Angel of Death.'

He smiled at the memory. It had been informative, seeing the young man conjure those threads, slicing ghouls like soft butter. He hadn't pressed him on the acquisition of those threads, respecting the young mans privacy.

The captain's voice crackled on the intercom, announcing their arrival in England. He tucked his documents and CD player away, and gripped the armrests. He hated these landings. They were almost always rougher than they should be, and they had a tendancy to upset his stomach for some reason. The last thing he needed was to vomit and be detained for medical help since most of his stomach contents were blood at this point in time.

* * *

Seras Victoria stretched her arms. She looked down at the disassembled Gravedigger on the table in front of her. She didn't know why she had spaced out just now. It was as if a presence was growing in her mind. She knew that her powers of intuition were strong, stronger than most. But this was more than intuition. It was almost as if someone was trying to...

_She stood in a field cloaked in darkness, the Gravedigger aimed in front of her, the last shell ejecting from the top. She ejected the clip, slapping her pockets for another one, coming up empty. She released the slide, tucking the pistol back into a pocket and reaching for her old Socom. Another pistol roared in the darkness, and she saw Alucard there, both his Casull and his Jackal drawn and firing. His face didn't hold the manic glee that it usually did in a fight. His face was formed in a rictus of determination. Beyond him stood Walter, bleeding from a cut on his forehead but still flinging out his garrote wires. She heard another pistol fire from the other side, and saw a man she didn't recognize, with rust colored hair and dead eyes firing twin pistols into the blackness. They resembled Desert Eagle .50 pistols with blowback minimizers, but the barrels were longer, more streamlined, something on the lines of her Gravedigger. She felt fire as a round caught her in the shoulder. She spun as she fell...

* * *

_

Hunter sat forward, his mind brushing against the tangled skien that was Fate's web. Someone was seeing a vision. He felt a familiar scent, almost like Alucards, but slightly different. As he felt this touch, he sensed Alucard at the terminal. He frowned and reached out, trying to see the vision more clearly. But the cloudy view was all he was granted, despite his efforts.

As the plane drew up to the terminal, he was the first at the disembarking ladder.

* * *

Seras fell back, her view clearing, her hand clutching at her shoulder. Her throat felt raw, as though she had been talking or yelling or _screaming_. Walter stood over her, trying to calm her.

"Miss Victoria, what is the matter?" his wizened face was cragged with worry.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, glad for the company, the solace. "I don't know! I just saw these horrid visions, these nightmarish things. It was almost as though we were fighting a hopeless battle."

The longtime retainer patted her on the back. "It was merely a nightmare, Miss Victoria. Nothing more."

She reared back and looked at him. "No, it was something more. I could feel it, Walter."

She looked at the man, her eyes widening with her distress. "Something terrible is going to happen, I just know it!"

* * *

Hunter slung the strap to his satchel over his shoulder as he left the security kiosk, walking through the terminal to a shadowy corner in the back of a hallway. Glancing around, he spoke to the air. "Alright, you old fool, come on out."

Oozing from the shadows like liquid, Alucard looked hurt. "Now, is that any way to greet an old friend, James? I'm hurt." He put his hand to his breast as though covering a wound.

Reaching out and slapping a red covered shoulder, Hunter smirked. "Haven't changed a bit, Alucard. Still a stuffed-shirt, puffed-up baby. So, do I rent a car, or should we just pop in on Sir Hellsing unannounced?"

Alucard smiled, letting his spectacles slide down his nose a bit to reveal his eyes, crimson and shining. "I see you still like grand entrances. It might irritate my Master to just pop in."

Hunter eyed the vampire. "And since when have you _not _tried to irritate a member of the Hellsing family?"

"Good point," he said, fading into the shadows again. "If you would care to walk this way," he finished, the shadows about him rippling slightly.

Shaking his head, Hunter phased into the shadows, following his old friend.

* * *

"James Hunter reporting for duty, Miss Hellsing."

Integra looked up, mildly surprised at the appearance of the man in front of her. Grizzled, with rust colored hair hanging about his jaw line, and grey-blue eyes that held a depth and an intensity she saw rarely. There was also the slight smirk on his face that she associated with a pestering vampire in her employ.

"First, let me say that despite what Alucard has told you, we do not, repeat not, simply apparate into my office without being called. Do I make myself clear?"

The smirk didn't fade. If anything, it grew larger, though his face didn't change. "Yes, sir,"

"Secondly, I want you to be aware that I will, under no circumstances, permit you to run amok here. You will be answerable to me and you will have restrictions placed upon you, the same as Alucard and Commander Victoria. Understood?"

"Of course, but I do wish to let you know that merely tattooing seals into my hands will not bind my will to yours. Dhampirs have been notorious for being independent." He handed her an envelope. "Within this are the documents you'll need to enact the restraints I placed upon myself when I joined the Corporation. If I may be permitted to speak freely?"

She raised an eyebrow. "This is different. Go ahead."

He cleared his throat. "I have no objections to being placed in restraints, but I feel the need to remind you that I work best if left be. I will abide by your laws and rules while I am in your manor, but in the field I would advise leaving the leash off."

Integra looked at the man, hearing the soft touch of an English accent, growing stronger as he talked. He stood in a loose parade rest stance, as though never truly at rest. His eyes were locked on hers, but also seemed to take in the entire room at the same time.

She nodded. "Accepted," she said. "Provided you follow my orders. Are there any special requirements you will need for the duration of your stay?"

He shook his head. "Unlike vampires, I do not require a coffin to sleep in. As long as I get a packet of medical blood every couple of days to keep the thirst down, I'm no more than a regular human. I sleep on couches and cots, eat Italian and have an opinion on most wines that would rival connoisseurs. I would," he continued. "Like to speak with your weapons master for a brief minute or so to get one of my weapons serviced and to ensure the proper ammunition allotments."

She waved at the door. "I'll have Walter find you. He's our resident weapons expert."

A smile tugged at the corner of Hunters lips. "Walter Ddollneaz?"

"Yes," she said, a smile playing with the corner of her mouth as well. "I understand you two are friends from an age ago."

"You could say that," he said, his posture not changing but giving off an air of being more relaxed now that the formal proceedings were over. "It's been a long time. It'll be good to see him again."

As he walked out the door, Integra spoke to the empty room. "I thought I told you not to appear without being called or announcing yourself, Alucard."

His voice reverberated in her mind. _Ah, but I didn't, Master. He did. You never said he couldn't._

She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose as his laughter echoed in her mind. It was bad enough FREAKS were overrunning the country, but she had a vampire who liked to split the hairs of her orders. Not for the first time, and certainly not for the last time, she wished that she could have had a normal childhood.

* * *

Seras sat on the steps in front of the house, staring out at the moon and stars, contemplating what the vision had been.

"One so young shouldn't be so worried," a voice said from behind her, a trace of a cockney accent making the words softer than the reproach would have been. She turned, and her heart stopped. Well, it would have, if it had been beating at all.

The man from her vision stood there, down to the coat and bag. He sat down on the concrete banister, one leg propped up with the foot tucked under the opposite knee.

"I know that you saw something earlier tonight. I felt the stirrings." She gaped at him, brain still not quite working in the shock. "What did you see?" he asked.

"Well, I'm not certain," she stammered. "I was fighting something, and Alucard, and Walter were there as well. So were you." She stood, remembering her manners. "Commander Seras Victoria," she said, offering her hand.

Surprisingly, instead of shaking the hand, he took it and kissed the gloved knuckles as though she were a dignitary from some country. "James Hunter," he said, his voice betraying nothing. He looked her over, eyes measuring her. "You were one of Alucard's fledglings." It wasn't a question.

She nodded. "He released me from the servant bond almost two years ago."

"But you haven't grown into your full power yet." Again, not a question.

"No," she said, nervous as she hadn't been in years.

"You worry that you've lost your humanity, that you are no better than the monsters you put down."

She stared. "How did you know?" Could he read minds?

His face didn't change, but his eyes looked to be smiling now. "Yes, but I also recognize the look on your face from when I was your age." He stood and tucked his hands in his pockets. "If my actions on behalf of mankind have redeemed me, or if I was condemned to Hell just because of the side of me I never asked for. If my humanity was something I had to give up or if it never existed when I woke in my new state. If by drinking blood I destroyed my ticket to Heaven."

She nodded mutely.

He waved a hand upwards. "Look up, Miss Victoria. What do you see?"

Glancing up, she saw a vast field of stars. "The stars," she said simply.

"What are stars, exactly?"

Wondering where this was going, she replied simply again. "Burning gas in space."

"When I was young, no more than fourteen, the elders in my town would tell me that the stars foretold the future, that they were the resting places of great heroes, that they told of great deeds and misdeeds of the past." He pointed towards a constellation. "Do you see the Seven Sisters, the Pleiades?"

She nodded, looking.

"I used to wonder what it would have been like to live back with the Sisters, to see the deeds that they wrote poems about." He sighed. "As time went on, science discovered what stars were, no more than plasma burning. Helium and Hydrogen being converted back and forth in fusion. I began to wonder if there were planets circling them, with someone looking up at the sky wondering the same thing. Who knows, maybe I'll live long enough to find out, though I doubt it would be in this generation."

She looked at him, not sure where this was going. He took a deep breath.

"Information has always been like a drug to me. The more I learned the more I wanted to know. I could spend all of eternity learning and still fall behind. I was forever pestering the wise men and women in my village for what they knew." He looked at her, his eyes gleaming lightly in the dim light. "Do you understand what I'm trying to say?"

She shook her head. "Not exactly," she admitted.

He dug at a crack in the pavement in front of him with his toe. "Humanity is a state of mind, not a state of being. If it were, then there would be no hope for any of us. It is your humanity that has you fighting the FREAKS, serving Sir Integra. It's what has Alucard submitting to the seals and to the Hellsing family."

"Alucard has humanity?" she asked, remembering the torturous way he had treated her as a fledgling, and the edge of insanity he walks purposefully. Hunter cracked a grin, revealing slight fangs.

"Such as it is, yes. He knows that if the FREAKS were to run rampant, there wouldn't be anything on the planet but their kind and the filth that would follow them. He has the ability to slip from his chains at anytime, as evidenced by the fact he takes obscene pleasure in annoying those of the Hellsing line. But he has reasons for what he does, despite his monstrous background on both sides of the grave.

"Humanity is what drives us to sacrifice for others. In that," he turned, taking her by the shoulders. "Is how we differ from those we hunt. They seek only personal power. We seek to defend. Just because you are no longer human is in no way a statement as to your humanity." He released her and headed back into the manor.

She pondered what he had said. It made a lot of sense.

_Of course it does, Police Girl._

She turned, finding Alucard phasing into being behind her, sans hat and glasses. "James has always been something of a warrior monk, spouting philosophies while eliminating targets."

"Have you known him long?" she asked.

"We met during the War. He had been drafted shortly after Walter and I had begun to battle the Vampires and ghouls in German control. But I never could get him to enjoy the delights of battle fully. It was sad," he finished almost wistfully. "But we had fun in those days. There were real challenges back then."

"Who is he, Alucard?" she asked, remembering the strange feeling he gave her, and the mixed scent.

"A friend, and one that will be a great help to us now that the FREAKS are getting to be almost challenges." He let out one of his cackles, fading from the scene. _It should be fun, in any case._

Seras looked up at the sky, seeing the faint pink hue on the horizon. The sun was coming up. She should get inside before dawn hit her full on. She phased into the remaining shadows, heading for her room.

* * *

Across the way, a figure lowered a set of binoculars. As he wormed his way backwards from the bushes he had been concealed in, he pulled a cell phone out and punched a number.

"Targets identified and confirmed on site, plus one non-hostile freshly arrived. No, identity not verified as yet. Affirmative, still awaiting orders."

He tucked the phone back in a pocket and stalked away, trying hard not to make noise, despite the empty landscape.

* * *

A/N: still liking the philosophy angle, though I think in the next chapter or two I may have to up the rating, since I've got gore and battles coming up. Also going to put in some comedy. Any questions, just send them to me and I'll answer them if I can...if not, I'll make sure to clear it up in a coming chapter.


	3. Of Dances, Death, Leches, and Tarts

A/N: I'm setting it up for a Hellsing/WHR crossover and possibly some AxI later on. And the idea about the songs during the fight scene came from a video I found one night. If you want to see it, just ask.

Disclaimer: If anyone claims that I own any of the non-original characters, may a bed bug find you in the middle of a good dream.

* * *

He stalked down the corridor, his boots making soft clicks on the rocks. He could have simply phased through the walls to his destination, but he liked showing his subjects that he was no different than one of them. It inspired loyalty. He only showed his powers when he wanted to show why he was their leader.

Or when he thought they needed _discipline_.

He heard the tramping of boots behind him and paused. When the messenger had dropped to his knees, he turned and looked at his minion. "Yes," he said, as though nothing was worth his time.

"The forward scout reports that both of the targets are on site, and with the sun approaching, he predicts no deployment forthcoming."

He nodded. Then he picked up the notion in the back of the messengers mind. "And," he said, putting a slight edge to his voice.

The messenger cringed, as he should. "He also reports the arrival of a non-hostile. He has no identification yet, but expects to find out soon. He is awaiting orders."

He waved his hand, dismissing the messenger. A new arrival, how interesting, but it changed nothing. He arrived at his chambers and went in.

They were almost ready to begin the operation.

* * *

Hunter heard the quiet rap at his door, but didn't move, didn't interrupt his meditation. "Come," he said.

The footsteps that followed the doors opening creak were almost as quiet as the knock had been. The soft tread of dress shoes. That meant...

"Hello, Walter." he said.

"And hello to you as well, James. I understand you wished to see me in an official capacity?"

Hunter rose, retrieving his pack from the bed and pulled a pistol out, ejecting the magazine and locking the slide back. "I was wondering if you could help me with this. It's been shooting off since a scuffle a few days back."

Walter took the gun. "This is well made." He turned the weapon over in his hands. "A modified Desert Eagle, if I'm not mistaken. Who did the alteration?"

"The blowback minimizer, chamber, and magazine were done by a, _friend,_ at Heckler & Koch. The exterior was custom done at the factory."

Walter looked at the engraving on the barrel, and glanced at the Dhampir, amusement in his eyes. "Abel?" he said.

Smiling, he pulled his other pistol from the jacket draped across the chair. "Of course. Where would Cain be without Abel?" He turned the barrel to the side, showing the side of the weapon. Where Abel had been engraved into the black material, leaving the silver letters glinting in the light, Cain was engraved in the nickel plated side, with blackener rubbed in.

"What do they fire?"

"Abel fires a 13mm explosive round. Cain fires a slightly larger 15mm charge. With the blowback minimizers, these could be called tack-hammers by them alone. Add that to the charge and primers I prefer, there aren't many FREAKS that stand up to these guns."

Walter released the slide, peering down the sights. "How far off is it shooting?"

"About six inches low and two inches to the left at fifty meters. I've had to cut down on my fun and get close to use it." He smiled.

Walter returned the smile. Hunter looked the man over. The hair had a few grey hairs in the jet black strands, a few wrinkles and unfamiliar scars were on his face near his hairline, but other than that, the same figure he had known all those years ago.

"How have you been, Walter?"

"Retirement was enjoyable, but frightfully brief."

Hunter nodded. He had heard rumours of the Valentine attack, the incident with Incognito, and the subsequent reactivation of several retired operatives. They seemed to be true for all intents and purposes.

"Is there anything else, James?"

"No, yes," he said, remembering. He pulled a case from his pack, removing one of the rounds and prying the projectile from the casing. "I had an idea for the rising tolerance that the FREAKS are having to straight silver rounds."

He showed the bottom of the round to the butler, showing the mostly hollow interior. "I thought we could fill the bottom with Holy Water and seal the opening. When the round strikes, the silver casing shatters, the heated steam eats away at the surrounding flesh, and there is more damage to deal with. But since Holy Water affects me the same way it does vampires," he trailed off.

Walter nodded, taking the shell. "I'll see to it. May I have examples of your preferred rounds so that I can replicate some?"

Hunter pulled two rounds of each from his magazines and handed them over. Walter headed for the door. "Walter," Hunter said.

"Yes?"

"It's good to see you again, Angel of Death."

The retainer smiled. "And you as well, Thanatos."

Hunter smiled at hearing the old nickname.

"Will you be staying on permanently?"

Hunter shrugged. "It's a temporary transfer for now. But my contract is at my discretion."

Walter nodded, and departed.

Hunter smiled. It was good to be back.

* * *

Integra lay half-asleep on her desk in the late afternoon hours, her mind wandering. A pair of eyes appeared in the shadows behind her chair, peering out. Alucard phased into the room and perched on the edge of her desk, looking at her, his dark grey suit blending with the growing shadows.

"Master," he whispered in her ear.

Her eyes opened, taking in the sight of his dark suit, the eye on his tie. Then her brain caught up with her and she sat bolt upright. "I thought I had made myself clear as to my wishes of privacy in my office." she said sternly.

"But you did call me, Master," his voice took on a syrupy texture and his smile left no question as to the reference he was making. "But I should have known better than to think my luck had changed in that matter. Ah well, another time then. Perhaps the Police Girl,"

He phased out of being as the ashtray sailed at him, his laughter echoing in the large room. _Temper, temper, Master. You shouldn't throw things._

Integra sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose, fighting off a headache. _Alucard, if it weren't for the FREAKS I would lock you in the dungeon for another twenty years._

The voice came back, the laughter evident in his voice. _But then you wouldn't have my company, Master._

She sighed, and again wished that she could have had a normal childhood, free of taunting vampires that had free reign of her house like a pet running wild.

_Tsk, tsk, Master._

She looked at the shattered remains of the ashtray on the floor, wondering idly if this was why Father had locked him up after he had done his work.

_Actually, it was because I made a pass at his wife._

_Stay out of my brain, vampire. _She shut him out with an effort, but not before that cackling laugh of his rang in her head.

* * *

Seras Victoria stood on the top of the training range, watching as her troops ran through, training with the new night goggles. She had a mental flashback: Commander Fargason standing where she had, watching over his troops like a father.

Just as she was watching now. She swiped at the tears welling in her eyes. She was on duty, she couldn't give in to emotion just now. But she did miss the old man. He had been like a second father to her.

She saw one of her troops working the bolt on his MP5. She looked closer. It appeared to be jammed. She wondered if her training had truly made it into their minds. She watched as he slid the safety back on, letting the weapon slide down its strap to hang out of the way and pulled his sidearm from its holster, motioning on of the others forward, taking a rearguard position.

She smiled. He had made the right choice. If he had continued on or took too much time trying to clear the jam, she would have stopped the exercise and the team would have lost points. She had trained them well.

She felt the stirring in the back of her mind, then heard the call from Sir Integra. She sounded the end of exercise whistle, dismissing the men and then phased into her Masters office. Alucard and Hunter were already there.

Integra gestured to a monitor in the corner. Seras thought she recognized the interior of a local dance club she had gone to on one of her evenings off.

Once had been enough.

"This was taken an hour ago at a club in Soho." Integra paused the video and zoomed in on a section near the bar. Four men stood scanning the crowd with the looks typically found in places like that. Which was why Seras hadn't gone again. She disliked the feel of being a piece of meat on display in the market.

Then her mind caught up with her. The four men had red eyes.

FREAKS.

Alucard smiled, standing up. "You orders, my Master? Search and Destroy?"

Integra smiled. "Not quite, Alucard. You will only destroy the ghouls that they may have created and three of the four FREAKS. You will let one escape."

Alucard looked at her as though she had grown another arm. "Let one escape? But why?"

Hunter smirked at his discomfort. "Not all dead bodies tell tales, old man. Especially when their bodies are piles of dust."

Seras realized what was going on. "You're going to have one of us follow the creature back to the nest,"

Integra nodded. "You and Hunter will go in undercover prior to Alucard's entrance and follow the escapee back to wherever it is he goes."

Seras glanced at Hunter. He wasn't unattractive, but he appeared to be forty to her twenty. "I'm not so sure that we'll fit in," she began.

Alucard laughed. "You always did have a thing for younger women, didn't you Thanatos?"

Hunter snorted. "Don't worry, one of my talents is disguising my appearance. We won't stand out a bit."

Integra cleared her throat. "You will leave after changing into more, _suitable_, attire."

Seras fought back an unladylike snort. She hardly thought that attire suitable for anything.

_Oh, and your first uniform was, Police Girl? I rather miss that one. The yellow one went with your hair so nicely._

Only the dim light kept the depth of her blush from standing out. True, the short skirt and close fitting top hadn't been quite, for lack of a better term, appropriate for hunting down vermin, it wasn't as bad as some of the things on that video. She still wondered why she had chosen that outfit design. Had she given in to some urge that hit all female vampires, some primal need?

_No, you just wanted to attract a meal, in more ways than one, Draculina._

_Oh, let her be, you old leech of a lecher. We all had adjustment phases._

She realized that she had been broadcasting her thoughts to the other two telepaths in the room. She also realized that they were almost to the door and Integra had cocked an eyebrow at her. She saluted and hurried to her chambers to change, another blush burning on her cheeks.

She sat in the car twenty minutes later, her hair slicked back, wearing a pair of close fitting jeans, a mesh top with a vest partially closed over it and a broad choker to cover the scars that she still had on her neck from Anderson's blades. She toyed with a floppy hat in her hands and had a flash of memory: trailing Steadler to the bar, then following him and the reporter to the underground room where they filmed the vampire attack. She looked at her outfit. It was rather similar, though not even as modest as that one had been. There was a bit more flesh shown because of the mesh top.

The driver side door opened, and a thin frame slid in. Long red hair was gathered in a tail, a goatee framed his mouth, and he was a good deal taller. But the eyes and scent were the same. "James?" she ventured. He looked twenty-six.

He looked at her, the smirk that she had seen on Alucard's face so many times on his as well. "Aye, it's me, lass." he said, his voice now with a deep Scottish brogue that had her start a bit in fear. It was so close to that of the hellish priest. He gestured at his outfit. "Not exactly my usual dress, but I expect it'll do, eh what?" He winked at her.

She agreed. The leather pants and vest weren't what she pictured him wearing, and the muscle shirt he wore clung to the thin frame like a skin, and a bullet hung about his neck like a pendant. He put the car in drive and they headed for Soho.

* * *

_Lust, need, blood boiling and rushing in veins. The fear of the few that had been fed upon. The smells are so exquisite. _Alucard waited in the shadows, only his eyes visible. He was waiting for the right moment to make his 'entrance', and keeping an eye on Hunter and Seras. He could hear the Dhampir's opinion of the 'dancing' they were doing through the mental link they were sharing for the mission. It _was _rather amusing watching him try to dance like the younglings in the room. He was close, but it was obvious that he wasn't a dancer.

_It's no more than a blasted mating ritual. I do apologize, Seras._

The blonde shook his apology off. She looked like she was enjoying herself, forgetting that she was on assignment. Her eyes, hidden behind slightly tinted glasses were half closed as they moved to the slow pulse of the song.

_Don't fall _too_ much in love, Police Girl. You can't just go back to your flat after this dance._

Seras looked up, her anger apparent even at this distance. He started laughing and her return comment, whatever it was, died as she realized he was baiting her.

_Lech, _Hunter thought up at him. _And what is your point, Half-breed? _

Hunter refused to rise to the taunt. He smirked and looked into Seras' eyes. _Are you watching the door or taunting us, geriatric? One job at a time._

Alucard glanced at the door. Sure enough, the four FREAKS were approaching the door. _Always showing off, aren't you, Thanatos?_ He smiled. It may not be a complete job, but it would be fun until he had to lay off. He phased into the crowd behind them, drawing the Jackal and intoning the restriction interlock phrase. "Releasing control art restriction to level three. Situation C, keeping the power unlocked until the target has been silenced." He cast an illusion around the people nearby so that they wouldn't notice the gun or the dissolving FREAKS. He brought the Jackal up and aimed at the nearest FREAK. "Going so soon?" he asked.

* * *

Hunter saw the confrontation begin, then froze. He was picking up something, some scent or mental vibration. _Damn it, where..._

Seras saw him freeze, and started looking around as well. _What is it? _she thought.

_You're armed, right?_

_I brought my Socom._

_Get it out. Sweep the room, there's a cloaker in here somewhere._

_Cloaker?_

_A witch. There are more than the four FREAKS that Alucard is facing._

He started moving off, and Seras started to move in the other direction, but strong hands grabbed her and threw her. Her head contacted something unyielding and darkness clouded the edges of her vision.

* * *

_Alucard, cloaker in the room, keep an eye out. _Hunter had taken maybe four steps when he heard Seras' gasp. He spun and saw two men forcing their way towards him. The larger grabbed Seras and pitched her towards the bar, where she slumped, shaking her head. He ducked the punch launched at him by the smaller one, posting his hands and scissoring his legs, dropping his opponent to the floor. He caught the pistol that had fallen out of the man's jacket and fired a round into his skull, dusting the FREAK. He leapt to his feet and swung the pistol in line with the larger vampire heading his way. _Seras, find that witch!_ Before he could fire, the FREAK grabbed the pistol and squeezed, crumpling it in his hand. Hunter barely got his hand from the grip before it was trapped in the trigger guard. He flipped backwards as a new song started. He ducked a kick and threw a punch that connected with the vampire's jaw. He didn't even flinch.

"Oh, bollocks." The return punch threw him back several feet, up against the raised stage area. "Fuck, that _hurt,_" he groaned.

The FREAK came up and threw another punch that he caught, and used the momentum to throw the vampire over his hip onto the stage area. He followed, pressing his advantage. _Such as it was._

The FREAK stood up and caught his forward kick, trapping his foot against his chest. Hunter leapt, slamming his other foot into the monsters face and turned the momentum into a back flip. He stood, eyes locked on his opponent as the strains of the song rained down over them. People moved out of the way as the FREAK stumbled backwards. Then the song finally made its way through the ringing in his ears.

_Great, fighting to Alt. rock. What movie did I fall into?_

He threw a punch that was parried, and he followed up by dropping to his hip and sweeping his legs out, but the FREAK hopped over the sweep and made to stomp down, and Hunter used the momentum of his spin to roll across his shoulder back to his feet, avoiding the smashing appendage. The song hit the chorus as they traded another set of kicks and punches.

_Wake me up Wake me up inside  
I can't wake up Wake me up inside  
Save me Call my name and save me from the dark  
Wake me up Bid my blood to run  
I can't wake up Before I come undone  
Save me Save me from the  
Nothing I've become_

People started applauding as the combatants separated. They seemed to think it was an exhibition by two friends. Little did they know what was truly going on. _I'm fighting for my life and they think it's a Capoeira demonstration. How wonderful._

The FREAK charged in for another attack, and called out. _I could use some help here, guys.

* * *

_

Alucard heard Hunter's warning, and even as he whipped the Casull from his jacket, the eye on his tie being joined by countless others, the FREAKS in front of him dissolved in a mist. He spun, weapons out, and spied nine FREAKS around him. Eight spread out while one, larger than the others, stepped forward and began to change, his shadow forming into that of a large hawk, talons sharp and beak jagged.

"Interesting." He tucked his pistols away. "Shall we?"

The FREAK smiled a fanged grin. Alucard took a step back. "Releasing control art restriction to level two, situation A, releasing level one."

He knew it was overkill for a FREAK, but he was bored and wanted to cut loose. He felt the power flowing into him, and he began releasing his servant demons as he finished. "The Cromwell approval in now in effect."

He lashed out, wolves attacking hawks, teeth slashing at wings, talons clawing at eyes. He held his own, and took a few moments to scan the crowd. Seras was forcing her way through the crowd, trying to reach Hunter, who was on the stage fighting a large FREAK hand to hand. He saw Seras draw a bead on the vampire, but she was pulled backwards by a ghoul that appeared out of nowhere.

He returned his attention to his fight. He was amazed that a chipped vampire could summon demons this soon in its unlife. He could sense that it wasn't more than a month old. He sent another tendril out, trying to sneak in the small gap between the various demons snarling in front of him. He was blocked by an upswept wing.

He smiled. This was going to be fun after all. He did enjoy search and destroy.

"Come on, show me what you've got. Hurry up already, the night is still so young, and I bore so easily."

The FREAK leapt at him, efforts redoubled.

* * *

Seras fired into the ghoul that had grabbed her arm, flinging it back and turned back to the stage, but stopped as she saw someone by the DJ stand. It was a woman, dressed in brown robes, kneeling and speaking words that were drowned out by the song. She swung her aim around and fired at her shoulder. The witch snapped her head up and the bullet froze in the air, then crumpled like it was squeezed in a fist before dropping to the ground. Before Seras could fire another round, she was up and running for the doorway. She fired, catching her in the shoulder before she was out of sight. She made to follow, but she was grabbed and pulled back by a FREAK. Seras whipped her pistol around and fired point blank into its skull. It dusted, and the people around her, no longer protected by the spell, screamed as the weapon went off and screamed again at the sight of a person turning to dust. They started to run.

Seras looked around, three FREAKS and possibly fifteen ghouls surrounded her. She fired her pistol, emptying the clip and tossing it back over her shoulder. Three ghouls crumpled and the FREAKS dodged to herd their 'snacks' back into the room.

The remaining ghouls attacked. She kicked out, driving one back but another grabbed her from behind. Again, as she had at the mansion, she lashed out, knocking three over in her attack. She felt her nails turn to claws and she swiped to the side, taking the head off one ghoul. She felt her fangs grow as her blood began to rush through her veins, the familiar feeling of bloodlust, only stronger than ever before. She began to understand why Hunter and Alucard always wore grins in battle. She spun, kicking a ghoul over, then leapt over a tackle, landing on the skull and shattering it.

_This is exhilarating, wonderful. I never imagined it would be like this._ She turned, seeing the last nine ghouls rush her. Her eyes shadowed over.

"Come on," she whispered.

* * *

Hunter was anything but grinning as he flew through the air and slammed into the bar, the air rushing from his lungs and he felt a couple of bones snap. He held himself up, on his elbows and knees, fighting for breath. He looked at the FREAK slowly walking towards him. The opening riff of a new song rang through the air.

He was mad, now. He felt something inside him snap. "That's it," he growled, and released the illusion, his body returning to it's normal mass and size, his hair shortening and his injuries healing as he stood. His eyes turned slightly transparent and ceased to reflect the light in the room. The vampire stopped, momentarily surprised.

_I cannot take this anymore  
Saying everything I said before  
All the words they make no sense  
I found bliss in ignorance  
Less I hear the less you say  
You'll find that out anyway  
Just like before  
Everything you say to me  
Takes me one step closer to the edge and I'm about to break_

_How true, _thought Hunter as he lashed out, putting his full vampiric strength and his regained mass behind the punch. He connected with the FREAK's jaw and drove him back.

All of four inches.

"Ah shit,"

As before, the punch threw him back, and this time Hunter turned it into a graceful back flip and landed on the bar. He reached down and grabbed the steel rod that ran around the interior of the bar and ripped a length off. He spun it like a stave and leapt out, stabbing and swinging feints. As the FREAK pulled back, he swung it in an overhead chop onto the monster's skull.

The sound of metal being bent out of shape rose about the music. Hunter backed up, looking at the twisted weapon in disbelief. "Oh, go pull the other one, Fate," he whispered before ducking beneath a punch and rolling backwards, releasing the useless rod. He came to his feet a few feet away, and looked at the FREAK. It didn't show any signs of tiring. He leapt in a roundhouse kick that slowed the monster's approach and came down in a crouch, hand held out.

Seras' pistol leapt into his palm. He ripped the pendant from his neck and slammed it in the breach, thumbing the slide release. He pointed the pistol at the FREAK and pulled the trigger.

The FREAK stumbled backwards, a large hole in its chest. It looked down and then at Hunter. "Oh, hell no. Bugger that," he said, dropping the Socom and looking about for something to use against this monster. Then the FREAK started crumbling into dust and ash.

Hunter slumped with relief, dropping to his back. _Bastard, _he thought at the dust pile. He looked around and saw that Alucard was in no danger, and Seras was enjoying herself as she slew the last of the ghouls surrounding her.

He went and headed towards Alucard. _Stop playing with that whelp, you sadist.

* * *

_

Alucard smiled as Hunter hurled the threat at him. He was right, time to stop toying with this youngling. He leapt back, pulling in his demons. "Is that all you've got? How pathetic. I've faced larger challenges from ghouls." It wasn't true, the FREAK had put up a good fight, but Alucard loved taunting his enemies. It was a sure way to push them over the edge.

And it always worked.

The FREAK leapt forward, sending his demons out towards the No-Life King. Alucard didn't move.

Much.

The Jackal cleared his jacket and fired, the round slamming in between the FREAK's eyes. It dusted almost immediately, the demons dissolving. He turned to the FREAKS surrounding him and started firing and felt surprise as the Casull leapt from his pocket and landed in Hunter's palm. As the last FREAK fell, he sent out a taunt to his old friend.

_Can't you use your own equipment, Half-breed?_

Hunter released the hammer on the Casull and lofted it back to Alucard. "I would have if there had been a place to hide it in this infernal costume. I'm still trying to figure out where Seras stashed that Socom."

"The Police Girl is always full of surprises," the vampire said, turning to watch his fledgling rip the head from the final ghoul, panting, eyes darting back and forth, looking for another target. "It seems she's grown up a bit," he commented.

"Yup," said Hunter. "Like Sire, like Fledgling."

Alucard chuckled. He could sense the fading bloodlust in Seras' body. "Are you done playing, Police Girl?" he called out.

Seras looked up, her eyes returning to normal. "Playing?" she said incredulously.

"Yeah," said Hunter. "We've been waiting on you for ten minutes."

"Ten minutes? Christ, how did I loose track of..." She caught the barely hid grin and smirk and realized she was being toyed with. "Damn you, don't do that."

Hunter let his grin blossom, fangs retracting somewhat. He held out his arm. "Shall we, milady?" he said as a slow song came on the PA. "I do believe our last dance was interrupted."

Alucard snorted. "Kiss up," he said. As Seras took his arm, he sent out a taunt to her. _Don't have too much fun, Draculina. We still have to report to our Master._

_Butt out, lech._

Hunter's laughter at Seras throwing his retort at her former master echoed through the mental link. Alucard smiled. She was starting to show some backbone. Maybe this was what she had needed. Maybe now she would start growing stronger faster.

* * *

The witch left, the bandage on her shoulder soaked through. He sat back in his seat, considering the implications.

"Three vampires. Fascinating. Most fascinating. Gerard," he called out.

A beetle bodied man entered the chamber. "My lord?"

"Signal the forward team that they are not to move forward tonight. We'll be sending a second team to assist. They will wait until that backup arrives."

"That will delay our plans by at least a day, my lord."

"Not catastrophically so," he returned. "We'll just have to move faster to break our _guests_ will." He chuckled. "Sent the orders."

The short man left, and he sat back, considering the new turn of events. Perhaps he should go with the team tomorrow night to oversee the operation personally. Yes, he would. He hadn't been in the field for far too long. He didn't want his men to think him an armchair commander.

_Soon, very soon now. Alucard and Integral Fairbrook Wingates Hellsing, your time here is coming to an end._

His laugh echoed out in the room, and any who heard it felt a chill run through their bodies.

* * *

Integra sat back, considering what the reports from the three supernatural creatures in her employ had said. It wasn't good. There had been fifteen FREAKS in all, and nearly twice that many ghouls. It was a vast mistake in intelligence, one that could have been deadly if she had sent in human troops.

She picked up her teacup and held it to her lips. The steam fogged her glasses as she sipped. A hint of berries floated in the somewhat bitter taste of the black tea leaves. It was, all in all, an exquisite blend. She wondered how Walter came by these different flavors. A quiet tap on her door broke through her thoughts. "Come," she called.

Walter stepped in. "Sir Integra, is there anything else you require this evening?"

She shook her head. "No, Walter. You can retire for the evening. Get some rest." When he didn't move, she looked up at him in mild surprise. "Yes?" she asked.

"I had a thought on the witch that escaped from the club earlier this evening." he said. "If witches and FREAKS are starting to work together, than this could be more than we know how to handle by ourselves."

Integra nodded. She had been thinking that herself. "What do you propose we do?" she asked her long-time confidant.

"I have a, contact, for lack of a better term, in a Japanese group similar to ours save that it hunts witches. I was thinking that we could call him and get his input."

Integra raised an eyebrow. "How is it you came by all these, 'contacts', Walter?"

He hesitated. "You are aware of my history with the Organization, Sir Integra. I carried out several missions for your father. I went to quite a few countries in my time."

She nodded. That was probably the closest he would come to telling her the nature of his contacts. Very well.

"Get some rest, Walter. It's still dreadfully early in Japan. Call him first thing tomorrow morning." He nodded and left.

She sipped some more of her tea. After some thought, she made a choice. _Alucard, _she thought.

The Cheshire cat grin appeared before her. "You called, my Master?"

"I want your opinion on what happened tonight, not just your report."

The vampire settled into the chair opposite her desk, his long legs crossed. "I thought it was a cleverly disguised trap that would have worked if it had just been me and the Police Girl or Hunter. With three of us, it crumbled quickly. However, it wasn't meant to endanger us, it was meant to delay us."

"Delay you?"

The vampire spread his hands. "Consider, Master, fifteen FREAKS against two true Undead or an Undead and a Dhampir? It was a doomed trap if that was meant to kill us. The only other reason would have been to distract us from some other operation."

Integra nodded. "I'll pull reports of any other activity from last night. What do you think they are planning?"

The smirk slid across his face. "That is more than this 'pet' can tell at this moment, Master." he said, mocking one of her thoughts from earlier that night. He stood, smoothing his tie and buttoning the dark grey suit coat. He glanced at the window briefly. "If there is nothing else?" he said.

Integra looked at the window and saw the slight pink of an early sunrise. She had lost the entire night. "Yes, of course. Thank you." The figure started to fade. "Alucard," she said.

"Yes, Sir Hellsing?"

"Be careful tomorrow night. I don't like the implications of this, and I don't want to loose you."

Alucard looked at her, surprised. "Of course, Integra," he said before fading.

She started. _He called me Integra, not Master, not Sir Hellsing or any of a hundred taunting names he's used through the years._

She thought back on the years they had known each other. _Did I even thank him for that night in the cellar?_

_Not in words, but they are hardly needed between us. _His voice glided through her mind. _They have never truly been needed._

She smiled. _Who would have thought, us becoming..._

_Friendly? _His chuckle rang in her ears. _Who indeed? Us, least of all._

_Thank you, _she thought.

His voice floated in her ears. _I should thank you for waking me from those dark dreams. Let us consider it even. Good night, Integra._

She smiled as she went about the remaining paperwork she had, resisting the urge to hum like a schoolgirl.

* * *

Seras heard the song faintly as she went down the corridor. She knocked on the door, gently. At first she thought she wouldn't be admitted, and then the voice came. "Come,"

She went in, Hunter kneeling cross-legged on the floor, hands in his lap and his eyes closed. The song playing softly on the radio caused her mood to lift slightly.

_The night is long but the Day will come  
With promises for the chosen ones  
Sown the seed, sweet taste the rain  
Fall dead of night into the light of day  
Heroine, heroine_

"It's called _Heroine. _Sinead O'Connor and the Edge."

"What?" she was startled by his voice. She looked down and saw his eyes locked on her.

"The song. Its title and the group that sings it."

"Oh," she blushed.

"What can I do for you, Miss Victoria?" he asked.

"I wanted to ask how you knew Alucard and Walter." She sat on the edge of the bed, crossing her ankles.

Hunter smiled. "Knowledge, the ever addictive drug. It was back in the last half of World War II. Walter had come across me fighting off a group of Nazi ghouls. He asked me to join him on a mission on behalf of an English organization, and I accepted. To tell the truth though, Alucard and I didn't quite hit it off at first."

She cocked her head to the side. "What do you mean?"

He chuckled ruefully. "We tried to kill each other." Seras burst out laughing at the picture. He joined her laughter. "Needless to say, it was Walter that kept us from each other's throats long enough to get to know each other. Alucard was the one that gave both of us our nicknames."

She nodded. "What does Thanatos mean, anyway?"

He looked at her with brows raised. "Why, Miss Victoria, are you telling me that you have no knowledge of Greek mythology?"

She shook her head, cheeks reddening.

He smiled. "It's quite alright, I suppose it was more of a subject that you would have learned about at the university, had you gone. Thanatos was the god of Death, more specifically gentle death and the brother of Hypnos, Sleep. Alucard thought that it fit with my peculiar personality. It was fabled that Thanatos was a child of Erebus and Nox. Darkness and Night," he clarified at her confused look.

She mulled this over. She realized that he had spoken to her again. "I'm sorry, what?"

"Do you know what it meant when you burst into that bloodlust tonight?"

She shook her head.

"Your powers are beginning to expand. As Alucard will tell you, your familiar will show up soon and you will be able to summon your inner demons. Your journey is almost complete."

She snorted at this. "I'm not so sure that he'll show me all that much. He seems to regard me as a joke most of the time, though he's not as bad as when I was just his servant."

Hunter stood. "Do you know why he treats you as such?"

She looked at him, the first hints of tears in her eyes at the difficult thought. "Because I don't live up to his expectations, I'm afraid."

"Because you have exceeded any of his other fledglings to date and he is pushing you to be the most you can be." He leaned against the table and crossed his arms. "He may not always show it, but there is a great deal of respect in his black heart for you. He's just an old fool, from a time that showing too much emotion was anathema to the elite, and Walachia no less. If he thought you were a joke," he said, eyeing her closely. "He wouldn't have given you the choice in that church in Cheddar."

She looked at him. "How did you know where we met?"

He smiled. "Dear girl, you would be amazed what two men will discuss while a lady retreats to the restroom." She giggled.

He stood, glancing at the clock. "The sun is coming up, if it isn't up already. You should be off to bed."

She stood and started for the door. "Seras," he said as she put her hand on the handle.

She turned.

"Remember what you have engraved on the side of your Gravedigger. Free yourself from fear."

She nodded and left, leaving him to his meditations.

* * *

He looked at the door for a while after she left, then pulled a cigar from his pack and went upstairs, finding Walter fixing a kettle of tea in the kitchen. Several tarts sat on a plate on the counter. He gestured at the kettle. "Earl Grey?"

The butler shook his head. "Japanese Green with ginseng. Would you care for some?"

He nodded, accepting the teacup and saucer from the man. He sat at one of the chairs across from Walter. "When did you give up the pipe?" asked Walter.

"When it kept getting smashed in the field," he said, lighting his cigar. "Walter," he began after a few puffs. "What do you know about Miss Victoria?"

The older man raised an eyebrow at the question.

"You know I don't mean it like that, ninny."

"She is a very capable young lady and has served this house with great distinction for several years now. Her acclimation phase was very tumultuous though. It took her nearly two weeks before she would feed enough to sustain herself. Then with that business with Incognito and Sir Integra's imprisonment, the rebuilding of Hellsing and her subsequent release from Alucard's service, she hasn't really had a lot of time to adjust to her new life, such as it is."

Hunter sighed. "That's what I thought, as well. Some of the questions and doubts this girl has she should have worked out in the servitude phase of her unlife. It seems she's had to grow up faster than we did, doesn't it?"

Walter looked at the Dhampir, his monocle shining in the overhead lights. "Considering that you grew up a good five hundred years before I was even born, I would have to take your word for it."

Hunter laughed.

"Do you remember Amon?"

Hunter thought back. "He was that witch hunter from Japan, wasn't he?"

"The same. I was going to give him a call today and see if he could come out to give us a hand, but my Japanese is a bit rusty."

"And you thought that I would be better suited to working through the red tape and levels of bureaucracy that we would need to before we even got to speak with Amon. I swear, Walter, you are such a child sometimes."

"Coming from you, I'll let that slide."

"Like you could do anything about it, old man."

Walter smiled, and the tip of Hunter's cigar fell off, landing in his tea. Hunter glared at him. "I was enjoying that, you know." He relit his cigar and stirred around inside his teacup for the tip that Walter had cut off with his threads.

Walter just smiled. "Just reminding you of the fact that there is quite a bit I can still do, despite being a bit older than I was when last we saw each other." He stood. "I'll bring you the number around nine o'clock. Will that be enough time to rest a bit?"

Hunter nodded, giving up on trying to get all the ash out of his tea. "More than enough."

Walter smiled and picked up the kettle and pulled another teacup and saucer from a cupboard. "I'll take my leave then. Sir Integra will want her morning tea now, I warrant."

He left after setting the kettle, cup, and two tarts on a tray. Hunter picked up one of the remaining tarts and popped it in his mouth whole, chewing around the mouthful. Just like he remembered Walter's tarts: perfect.

He stood and turned to leave, and stopped as his pants dropped about his ankles, his belt, fastener, and zipper all sliced apart.

_Drat that butler, _he thought. "Walter, I'll get you for this. These were my favorite jeans!"

He was left with Walter's soft chuckle as he gathered the remains of his dignity and his pants.


	4. Witches Iscariot and Shakespeare, Oh My!

A/N: The plot thickens as Amon and Robin arrive, the Hidden One reveals just how he intends to get ahold of Integra and Alucard, and we get a peak at Walter's past.

Disclaimer: I don't own a single thing in this except the ideas. R&R.

* * *

Integra walked down the hall to the library. There was a book that she wanting to do some cross-referencing in concerning the witches. As she walked in, she Walter standing at the window, staring out at the gardens. He seemed lost in thought. On one of the tables, an old leather-bound volume of Shakespeare sat, open to one of the sonnets. She picked it up and read it.

_Lo! in the orient when the gracious light  
Lifts up his burning head, each under eye  
Doth homage to his new-appearing sight,  
Serving with looks his sacred majesty;  
And having climb'd the steep-up heavenly hill,  
Resembling strong youth in his middle age,  
Yet mortal looks adore his beauty still,  
Attending on his golden pilgrimage;  
But when from highmost pitch, with weary car,  
Like feeble age, he reeleth from the day,  
The eyes, 'fore duteous, now converted are  
From his low tract and look another way:  
So thou, thyself out-going in thy noon,  
Unlook'd on diest, unless thou get a son._

She looked at him, knowing where his thoughts were. He was so good at concealing his emotions and thoughts, but around this time of the year he always slipped somewhat. He still looked out at the gardens, but she knew he didn't see them at all, his mind fixed on a different time and place.

"You miss her, don't you?" she said gently.

Walter turned, seeing her for the first time. "Sit Integra," he said, his usual cheer in his voice. "What can I do for you?"

She noted that he avoided the question. "You can answer my question, Walter. I saw the look on your face, and," she held up the book. "Other things. You can tell me. I knew her almost as well as you did. She could just have well been my mother."

Walter smiled, the hints of sadness and loss coming back to his eyes. "True, I do apologize. I should have known better than to hide it from you." He turned to the window and looked out. "The cherry trees are blossoming. She did so love the smell." He sighed wistfully. "She was such a gentle soul, understanding in the extreme. Even," he said, turning. "Considering the things that she knew I did in the war."

Integra nodded. "Walter, Hiromi would want you to remember the good times you had, not lament the separation. You know this." But even as she said it, she knew it would do no good. Why shouldn't miss her, as she missed her father? Thinking of her father threatened to close her throat, but she fought the urge.

Hiromi Kawabata had been a close friend; no, she had been more than that. She and Walter had been inseparable in their off duty hours. In Integra's youth, she had been the mother she should have had. Between her and Walter she had managed to make it through the days following her father's death, her uncle's attempted usurpation, and running the organization. Then one afternoon, she had gone to pick up some item from a vendor in town and her car had struck by some tosspot that had spent too much time at a pub. Thankfully, she felt no pain, according to the medics that attended the scene.

She walked over and placed her hand on the shoulder of the man she had come to trust more so than any other on the planet. He closed his eyes, placing his hand over hers, thanking her for the solace. "I never did ask, how did you meet?" Integra said softly.

"Your father, shortly after the war, sent me to Japan to track down information on some minor problem. I hadn't been in the country for more than a few hours when I came across her being attacked by a few ghouls. I took her to her home, making sure that she was ok. She asked me to stay, she was still quite rattled." He smiled as his eyes defocused. "We talked for hours on so many topics. Shakespeare, Emerson, Frost, she had such a broad taste. She was the one that introduced me to some of the more exotic blends that I've used for tea."

Integra smiled. So _that _was where he came about these blends.

"In any event," said the butler, straightening from the ever so slight slump that he had been in. "We became friends, and we stayed in close contact for several years, and then she came to London to take on an agricultural job for some corporation, and then your father hired her to assist with the design for the garden remodel."

He gestured towards the volume of Shakespeare in her hand. "Nevertheless, the sonnet was a mere coincidence. It was where I had tucked the number for that hunter I mentioned last night. It was thinking about how I came about the number that brought on my stroll through time."

Integra inclined her head as a slight bit of understanding flashed through her. He had taken a few trips to Japan since she had died, visiting her grave. She had gone once, marveling in the grove of cherry trees and the idyllic, pastoral site where her ashes had been buried. Apparently, on one of those trips he had run into this 'Amon' person.

"Have you contacted him yet?" she asked.

"Ah, no. I'm afraid that shortly after my idea came to me, I realized that my Japanese was far too rusty to wade through the layers of lower level officials to reach Amon. While he speaks English quite remarkably, not all of the people in his organization might. I asked James to do so. He should be making the call as we speak."

Integra nodded. "Tell him to report to me after he is finished." She turned to leave.

"Sir Integra,"

"Yes Walter?"

The man smiled at her. "Thank you. I haven't thought on the days we had for quite some time."

She smiled back, and left, after nabbing a book from a shelf near the door.

* * *

"What do you mean, he isn't with the STN-J anymore?" Hunter said calmly in Japanese. He had managed to make it to a person named Sakaki, a young man who Hunter remembered as being a headstrong rookie.

"Just what I said. Mr. Amon left the STN-J close to three months ago, after the incident with Solomon. I don't know where he is."

"Sakaki, I need to talk to him. It's important. Who would know how to find him? "

The voice was silent for some time. "Probably Michael. He knows quite a bit about tracking people down. Hold on, I'll track him down for you."

Michael. Hunter frowned, searching his mind, and a blonde haired boy came to his mind. Ah yes, the hacker.

"This is Michael," a new voice said in English, a trace of an American accent in his voice.

"Michael, this is James Hunter. We met briefly just under two years ago."

"Of course. What can I do for you?"

"I need to know how to contact Amon. I need his help on a case."

There was silence for a few moments, and Hunter could picture the young man scratching the back of his head. "The only thing I can think of is to have him get in contact with you. We don't have a set time or anything. He just calls in every now and again to let us know that he and Robin are alright."

"Robin?"

"That's right, you didn't know her. She was a Craft-user that took Yumi's place after she was killed. The whole snap with Solomon was because Robin turned out to be a genetically enhanced witch. She's on the run, with Amon looking after her."

Hunter felt his brows lifting. For Amon to volunteer to guard a Craft-user, she must have made quite an impression on the man. There had been times Hunter had thought the man made of granite. "What was her craft?" he asked.

"Pyrokinesis." Michael said, bringing a whistle from the Dhampir.

"Michael, get a pen and paper handy, I'm going to give you my number. Have Amon call me as soon as you hear from him, alright?"

After giving the number for the Hellsing house, and sending his greetings to the remaining team, he hung up. He sat back, threading his fingers together and posting his head on his hands. Amon on the run, with a Craft-user no less. He wondered just what had gone on since he had last been in Japan. He was so lost in thought that he didn't even pick up the footsteps that drew up behind him until a throat cleared itself suddenly. He looked up, seeing Integra Hellsing in front of him. He stood and nodded at the shorter woman. "Miss Hellsing." he said.

"I take it that you have made your phone call?"

He nodded. "Unfortunately, Amon has, for lack of a better term, taken on a safeguarding role for a young Craft-user and isn't staying put. He calls in to the STN-J at what I gather is semi-regular intervals. I passed along the number so he can get in touch at his earliest possibility."

She nodded, and spitted him with a look. "What do you know of him?"

"Amon? Strict, by the book, emotionless on the surface, but he always does the right thing. I think bringing him into this wouldn't be a bad thing. Might even help, in the long run."

"I'll be the judge of that, when he gets here."

Hunter nodded. "Miss Hellsing," he said in parting.

Integra watched him go, feeling mildly surprised. Everything about that half-breed was polite and non-taunting. Such a welcome change from Alucard's borderline insolence and Seras' timidness.

Somehow, he reminded her of Walter and her father.

* * *

There was a rap on the lid of his coffin. Alucard cracked open an eye. His senses told him that it wasn't quite nightfall yet, but if something had brought someone to his chamber to summon him, he decided that it would be important. He started to lift the lid, when the person beyond spoke. "You've been neglecting her training." Abraham Van Helsing's voice said.

In surprise, he sat up, but in doing so he rose faster than the lid of his coffin did. He cracked his forehead on the hard ebony wood and fell back, letting the lid fall down askew on his bed.

Hunter chuckled. "Not an afternoon person, are we?" he quipped in his normal voice.

Alucard pushed the lid the rest of the way off, sitting up. "If you were a human, I'd rip your throat out, spawn of Loki." he said, rubbing his forehead.

Hunter tossed a bloodpack at him. "Relax," he said. "I need to know what you mean to do about that appalling lack of knowledge in her department."

Alucard saw the half-human sitting at the table in his room, a chess board set up next to the bottle of wine that sat like a centerpiece. Hunter was taking this seriously.

He stood, stepping to the table and nudging a pawn forward. He drank the blood as Hunter moved a knight out. "Her power is expanding exponentially now. If she doesn't get some sort of instruction, she won't have any control and will be more of a terror than you were."

He crushed the bloodpack in his hand. "She hasn't been ready." He moved a bishop out and sat down, crossing his long legs.

"It's been close to two years, old man. You guys can't have been that busy."

"She has done well enough learning on her own."

"Don't tell me all that time in Walachia eroded away your memories from when you were learning how to use your powers. You can't tell me that helping her learn control would be beneficial. I know that it would have helped me in those first days."

Alucard smirked. "Perhaps. But she hasn't been ready. Physically she has, but not mentally. It took almost six months before she would feed willingly, not just to sustain herself. She still isn't quite ready for the strain that it would put her through to access those skills."

Hunter took one of his friend's rooks from the board, supplanting it with a bishop. "Perhaps," he said, mimicking the vampire's voice and accent. "But would you object to my giving her a nudge in some areas that overlap? I can't help her summon demons or her familiar, but I can help with the shape changing and the form masking."

Alucard slid his queen to the side, placing the opposing king in check. Hunter countered by castleing. "No, of course not. I do admit that perhaps releasing her without that training was foolish, but I wanted her to have the strength that the organization needed. The self confidence."

"My friend, you must be as dense as the wood your coffin is made of." He slid his queen forward. "Don't you realize that she thinks you view her as a joke?"

"There have been times," the vampire quipped. "Some things she has to learn on her own. I don't want to spend the time teaching her like I did getting her to feed."

"She grew up in a different era than we did, my old friend. We grew up in times when war and bloodshed would be in the villages as well. I remember the Crusades dimly, but they were ending while I was still a child, and I seem to remember stories about a man named Vlad Tepes. Our world was much more violent than hers."

"It is still violent, James."

"But she hasn't seen it like we have. You have to realize that she is, despite her nature, still quite innocent. Integra grew up knowing about your kind and what they did. Seeing it was just seeing a lesson in practice. I remember people I considered friends butchered in the Inquisition. I nearly didn't survive my time there. You," he smirked. "Well, you drank blood as a human anyway, so it wasn't much different for you."

"It was better, in some ways."

Hunter looked up from the board where Alucard had trapped him in a neat little box. "Seras, however, hadn't seen much of the death and gore of life until she became a cop. And I gather that she hadn't been a cop long before the two of you met. It's just going to take time and patience. She had a rough acclimation phase."

"She's lucky she wasn't a Dhampir."

"I agree. I doubt she would take kindly to knowing that she'd only escape the curse by hunting down and killing her own father, or the rather violent way we are introduced to our powers." He tipped his king over, acknowledging Alucard's victory. "I'll start tonight. She's supposed to show me the grounds. That way you can spend some time with Integra."

Alucard looked at the man as he stood to leave. "What makes you think I would?"

"Please, you two cross each other's minds so often it's like hearing kissy noises no matter where I go in this house. I would hate to think what the things deeper down were like."

That set them both laughing. Alucard stood, brushing his hands down his suit. "I guess I'll take your advice."

"Don't bite too hard, old man. I get the feeling she could sit you on your ass if she wanted to."

A toothy grin spread across Alucard's face. "That almost sounds like fun," he said.

* * *

Seras walked out to the firing range, finding Hunter there with his pistols out, firing slow, precise shots. After one shot, he set one down and fiddled with the sights on the other, squeezing off a few rounds before messing with it again. He flicked a glance at her as he reloaded.

"Well, I was going to start with the firing range anyway, so I guess you've just started without me." the young vampire said.

Hunter grinned, holding both pistols out and ripping out round after round. She slipped behind him and saw the chaos the shells left in the targets. She whistled.

He turned, slipping the guns into holsters at the small of his back. "So, where would you have taken me from here?" he said, holding his arm out as he had the night before.

Taking it, Seras started leading him down the corridor to a large room. "Well, the motor pool would be the next place, since it's on the way to lifts." She showed him the APC and truck bays, the various vehicles that they used for missions.

Seras felt odd as she showed him the grounds. She felt almost at ease with him. She had felt it at the club before hell had broken loose. Almost like she was a normal person again. _That is if you can be called normal living on a diet of blood. _She looked at him from the corner of her eye. She knew that he drank blood as well, but the thirst was smaller for him. She had gleaned that from him at the club.

He looked down at her. "Yes, Miss Victoria?" he asked.

She flushed. She was caught red handed. "Just thinking about how much it feels like being a normal person when I'm with you."

He smiled. "I tend to have that effect on people, making them feel at ease around me. But what is normal, after all? The average of a wide base of differences. You are quite average for a vampress."

She flushed again. He continued. "I know that it was difficult for you, but there are many thousands of ways that it could be worse. You could be dead. Or Martha Steward."

She giggled at that. "I just wonder if was like this for everybody."

"Took me six months before I accepted that the safest thing for everyone was if I drank blood. But then, everyone I cared about thought I was dead."

She looked at him. "What do you mean?"

He ran a hand through his hair. "Dhampirs are the offspring of a vampire and a human. They go through life as ordinary humans for the most part, until they come across a supernatural creature and are killed. In my case, I ran across a werewolf while walking one night with my sister. We were both torn to shreds, but I woke up soon after while it was feeding on my sister, my wounds healed. I flew into a rage and attacked the creature."

He looked off into the distance. "After that, I just wandered from city to city, village to village. I knew that I was different, and as I traveled I came across my various skills. I helped a lot of people down the centuries, and saw more bloodshed than I ever cared to." He stopped and turned to her. "I thought the purpose of tonight was to show me the grounds."

Seras smiled. "So I wanted to get to know a bit more about you. It seemed like a good opportunity. Besides, maybe later on you can share some embarrassing tales about Alucard, since I'm sure he's already told you a few."

"I thought the one incident with the taco stand quite cute," he said.

She blushed. "I didn't think so at the..." she trailed off. "What taco stand?"

He laughed.

* * *

Walter caught the phone on the third ring. "Hellsing residence," he said. After a few moments, he nodded. "Of course, I'll send someone to pick you up as soon as you land, though we didn't expect you this quickly. What time will your flight land?" Walter jotted down the time and flight number and then hung up the phone after exchanging good-byes. He informed Integra of the news and then picked up the PA microphone and called James Hunter and Seras Victoria to Sir Integra's office.

Amon was almost to London.

* * *

He watched as a car left the manor, loaded with the two vampires. He didn't like that one bit, but it was too late. The plan was already pushed to the limit of flexibility. He decided to wait twenty minutes before launching the strike. He turned to the tall man beside him.

"You're certain that it will bind his powers?"

"Aye, though how much is still in question. I've ne'er seen a monster with that much power." The Scottish brogue made the words difficult to make out, but the hate was evident in his voice. So was the obvious trouble he had keeping his hands away from the various weapons stashed amidst his robes. A large cross hung from his neck, hovering around his stomach and his face was marred by a large scar running from just below the left eye across his cheek to the jawbone. Light blonde stubble covered his face, peppered with several darker hues. He grinned almost like a man possessed.

The man stepped back from Paladin Alexander Anderson, no longer certain of his safety this close to the man.

_If he can still be called such, _he thought. _I'm lucky he doesn't know what I am, otherwise I'd have been carved up by now._

"We'll proceed in twenty minutes. I don't want them coming back in the middle of the operation."

"What does it matter? Two more vampires would hardly be a threat to me, especially the weak little whelp."

He spitted the regenerator with a glare. "The objective is not to kill them, but to carry them away. Killing them is of no use if they do not assist with the ceremony."

"What do I care of your ceremony? All I know is that those blasphemous dogs will soon be sent to the pits of Hell where they belong." He started cackling.

For the first time, he wondered if bringing in the priest was a wise idea. It may well turn against him if he didn't watch his step.

* * *

"Amon, it's been too long."

Hunter stepped forward and shook hands with the tall, dark haired gentleman who stepped from the security kiosk.

"I agree," the stony faced man said with a voice that surprised Seras. It was deeper than she thought it would be, and sounded faintly like Alucard's.

Hunter turned to the young woman beside him, her blonde hair up in ribbons on either side of her head. A peculiar pendant hung from her neck and she noted the rather conservative clothes she wore.

"You must be Robin," Hunter said. "I'm honored to meet the one that melted the iceberg's heart."

The young woman smiled softly, and in a soft voice tinged with an Italian accent replied. "I'm not so sure who melted who. If one thing our running has shown, it was that there was a lot more that we had in common than we thought." She slipped her arm through Amon's, reminding Seras of how a wife would link her arm through her husbands.

Hunter gestured at Seras as they made their way to the car outside. "This is Commander Seras Victoria of the Hellsing Organization. She heads the ground troops and the disposal unit."

Amon looked at her with eyes that probably were only half used to showing warmth. "I see you're a vampire," he said simply.

She nodded, a little uncomfortable. Hunter put a hand on her shoulder and sent a reassuring smile at her. _Don't worry. He got used to the idea that not all creatures are evil a while ago._

_Thanks, _she shot back. She turned to Robin. "You'll bunk with me, if you don't have a problem with that." The young woman smiled that soft smile again. "Not at all," she said with that soft voice.

Hunter slid in the car after stowing the luggage and slid the key in the ignition. The first thing they heard was the small radio blaring to life.

"_Sword Dancer is on the grounds. Repeat, Sword Dancer is on the grounds. Taking heavy casualties, Main house not responding to calls. Any field units not currently engaged are ordered to recall. Repeat, Sword Dancer is on the grounds, all non-engaged field units are ordered back to base."_

Seras jerked upright, her throat throbbing in an echo of phantom pain. "Bastard," she spat.

Hunter kicked the car into gear and sped off, spitting her with a sideways look, but Amon was the first to speak up. "Who is Sword Dancer?"

"An Iscariot dog. I've run into him a few times before." She touched the scar on her throat. Hunter caught that and nodded.

"Great, so the Iscariot Organization decided to loose one of it's hunters on the grounds. Alucard will make short work of him."

Seras looked at him. "Not him. He's a regenerator, and he's a lot crazier than Alucard is."

"Great," muttered Amon.

Robin sat forward. "Excuse me, what is Iscariot?"

Seras turned around. "It's similar to Hellsing and the STN-J, only it also targets the people that would work with 'unholy' beings." She gestured at Amon. "Even though he's not a witch, because his with me, James, and you, Anderson would butcher him just for standing next to us."

Hunter cleared his throat. "Actually, Amon is a witch. The hunter's of the STN-J are picked because they have latent powers. If I remember correctly, Amon is an Astral Projector."

Amon nodded while Seras looked between them in confusion. "A what?"

Robin spoke up. "He can project his image or the image of anything he wishes up to a certain distance. He also can use a reverse effect to help zoom in on a target."

"And what is it you do?"

Hunter stuck one of his thin cigars in his mouth as he swerved around a double-decker bus. "Robin, if you would be a dear," he said.

Robin smiled, and the tip of the cigar lit in a tiny flash of flame. Seras sat back. "Enough said," she murmured as the sweet smell of cherries and vanilla filled the car, almost relaxing her.

Almost.

Amon cleared his throat. "I understand that we all have certain abilities, but do we have any weapons, or will we have Robin roasting the entire grounds and have the groundskeepers rather cross at us for a month?"

Hunter hauled one of his pistols out from his jacket and handed back to the grim faced man. "Here. Watch out, though. It's got more of a kick than those compressed air guns you were using."

Amon ejected the clip and checked the magazine. "Noted. Spare clip?"

"In the boot with the bags. I'll be bringing it along with us, since I have a few other toys that might come in handy. Hold on," he said just before he hauled up on the emergency brake, sending the car into a swerve that he used to shorten the turn he was making.

"Why don't you just apparate to the grounds?" asked Amon.

Hunter shook his head. "I don't like jumping into a hot zone, and the Police Girl here can't drive a stick."

"Can too,"

_Hush, Seras. Always keep a combat group together, remember?_

The radio crackled with a repeat of the earlier report. Hunter skidded around another corner and applied more speed. A car slid in behind them, a red light flashing on its roof. "Great," muttered Hunter.

"Seras, if you would kindly trade me places," he said, raising his eyebrows. She nodded, and he phased into the shadows of the car while she shifted into a fog and slid into his place at the same time. Hunter slid back the skylight and climbed out, leaping back to the pursuing car. He landed and leaned towards the driver's window. After a few minutes, he stood and apparated back to the car. The car shut its light off and fell behind.

"What'd you do?" Seras asked.

"I used my charming personality to get him off our tail. He agreed after I put the situation out in front of him."

Amon snorted. "You growled at him and threatened to use him as a late night snack, didn't you?"

"He was a bit more understanding than that one cop in Kyoto. All I had to do was smile at him. He's got a brother in Hellsing's troop division."

Seras interrupted. "If you would like to take the car back, you're welcome to it. I'd rather get ready."

They traded places again, the same way. Robin hadn't thought the car could go any faster. She was wrong.

"Seras, you're armed, right?"

"Socom and Gravedigger. The Halconnen is in the equipment locker in the barracks."

"Shame. Would love to see what a 30mm shell would do to a regenerator."

"Quite a bit, but only for a short time. I'll phase in and get it just as we get there."

"I wonder what Walter and Alucard will leave us."

Amon smiled. "Knowing those two, probably not much."

Seras nodded, but she wondered internally if it would be true.

_So do I, Seras. Those Holy Writs will slow Alucard down, and from what I'm guessing, this Anderson would make short work of Walter._

_Thanks, _she shot at him. _I was trying to look at the bright side of this._

_Not sure there is one, _Hunter grimly said back, and whipped the car around another corner.

As he raced through the middle of London, he reflected back on a passage of Shakespeare.

_A curse shall light upon the limbs of men;  
Domestic fury and fierce civil strife  
Shall cumber all the parts of Italy;  
Blood and destruction shall be so in use  
And dreadful objects so familiar  
That mothers shall but smile when they behold  
Their infants quarter'd with the hands of war;  
All pity choked with custom of fell deeds:  
And Cæsar's spirit, ranging for revenge,  
With Até by his side come hot from hell,  
Shall in these confines with a monarch's voice  
Cry 'Havoc!' and let slip the dogs of war.  
That this fould deed shall smell above the earth  
With carrion men, groaning for burial._

He gritted his teeth. _I guess whatever it was you sensed the other night is coming true, Seras._

She nodded. _I just hope that we turn out better than Brutus and Cassius did. Remeber, we're the ones Italy is after this time._

_You would remind of that, wouldn't you?_ He took another turn hard, fishtailing the car. "We're coming up now." he said.

Amon spoke up. "Robin, your glasses?" Seras glanced back to see the young woman slide a pair of glasses onto her nose.

Seras must have had a puzzled look, for Robin smiled. "My powers tend to cause my sight to dim, rather similar to astigmatism. This way, I won't set anything on fire that we might have to put out later."

"Amon, you and Robin will be the most free ranging of us, since your powers are genetic more than anything. Seras will be hampered the most, and I will be knocked through a loop, thanks to those Holy Writs. I'll go in first with Amon. Seras, you and Robin come in second."

As he brought the car to a stop, he hopped out, Cain already in his hands. He pulled his bag from the trunk, and led the way to the front gates.

* * *

A/N: for those of you that might not know, Crispin Freeman voiced both Alucard and Amon in the dub versions of Hellsing and WHR, as well as Tsume in Wolf's Rain.


	5. Cameos, Prt I

A/N: The abduction, and several loved people make appearances. Look for references to or appearances by the people from Charmed, BtVS, Angel, Trigun, Forever Knight, and Gungrave.

Again, I don't own any of the characters mentioned here. The thought kind of makes me sad.

* * *

"Seras, go," he said as he reached in his satchel. With a sound like a sharpening stone across a knife, she vanished in the shadows. He tossed two spare clips towards Amon and pressed up against the stone column that supported the heavy main gate. He poked his head in and scanned the immediate area in a Z-pattern. Sliding forward, he beckoned his two friends forward. Amon came up, his long overcoat billowing in the slight breeze blowing. Robin followed close behind, her long dress sweeping on the pavement, her hands in her jacket's pockets. 

With a slight noise, Seras reappeared beside him, bearing a weapon close to two meters long. He heard Amon and Robin gasp as they saw the size of the weapon. He merely chuckled and teased her. "My, what a big gun you have, Seras." She blushed.

He heard a slight clicking sound, and turned, seeing a man throw something at them. He scanned the air for the grenade or other explosive that he knew was coming. A glimmer of metal caught his eye, and he swung his pistol up to shoot it down, but a demisphere of flames, an oblong shield, erupted in the incoming projectile's path. It connected with the flames and erupted harmlessly overhead. He glanced back at Robin and nodded. She merely smiled.

Seras slammed a round into the Halconnen. "Shall I blaze us a path?" she said. She leveled the weapon at the incoming figures and fired. The shell traveled several hundred yards and exploded in a massive conflagration over the heads of the incoming soldiers. The shock wave threw them all to the ground.

Amon was already firing the occasional round at sentries behind cover, the 13mm rounds ripping through their cover and still striking the targets. He looked at Hunter. "You didn't tell me it was this strong," he said, massaging his wrist.

"I warned you," He reached into the bag again, withdrawing a sphere about the size of a baseball made of some dull metal. He slid a lever forward, hearing it click four times. "If you would all kindly gather close and take hold of me, I'll get us inside a bit faster. Oh," he tossed the ball straight up. "Mind your eyes."

Seras was a bit slow in shutting her eyes, and caught the first glimmerings of the massive glow that exploded from the sphere, lighting the grounds like a second sun. Then, she was inside the manor, still seeing a few spots in front of her sensitive eyes. She also felt the sudden wave of nausea that hit her and her eyes fell upon the papers pinned to the walls with tiny blades. She staggered a bit. "What was that?" she said.

"Magneseum-phosphorus flare. It should have messed with anyone wearing night goggles and covered our dissappearnce." He looked around. "Seras, fall back. Amon," Hunter started sliding forward, Cain held ready.

_Do you want me to take lead? _she thought at him. _I know the mansion layout better than you._

_But I can regenerate despite the Writs on the walls. If that maniac is in the halls, that might be a good thing for a point man. _He peaked around a corner. _And from the looks of men in the corridor, he's around here somewhere. _He frowned. Something about the way some of the men were injured looked wrong, more like a claw than a blade. He shook the thought and eased around the corner, heading for the stairwell.

Amon leaned forward and whispered to him. "What do you expect to find?"

Hunter gritted his teeth, feeling his fangs against his lips. "A lot of bodies."

Robin, several feet back with Seras, turned to the vampire and asked simply. "Does this happen a lot around here?"

"More than I'd like," she admitted. It was the third time the manor had been attacked since she had been here. The Valentines, the SAS, and now this mystery group. "I'm thinking about suggesting to Sir Integra that we move the base of operations to someplace harder to attack."

"Might be a good idea," Hunter said as they came to another corner. "Almost there," he said, then trailed off. He heard a swishing sound, followed by an insane cackle. He turned the corner, seeing a large blonde man standing over several dead soldiers. His back was arched back as his mirth at the slaughter racked his body. He motioned Seras, Robin, and Amon forward. "Get them to the office. Find Sir Integra, Alucard, and Walter."

She nodded, the insanely large cannon slung over her shoulder on a strap. "This way," she said, heading further down the first corridor.

Hunter tucked Cain away and cleared his throat, hands limber.

The man spun, a large blade suddenly flying towards him. He slapped his hands together in front of his chest, trapping the blade with the point just touching his body. He flipped the sword so that he was gripping it by the hilt. "You must be Paladin Anderson," he said. "I've heard a lot about you."

The man stood wary, two more of those large swords in his hands. "And who're ye?" he said.

Hunter grinned, showing his fangs clearly. "Someone who wants to play," he said, easing into a fencer's stance, sword held loose but firm, feet set shoulder width apart. He raised an eyebrow. "Care to dance?" he asked.

The man in the priest robes smiled. "Let us then, and soon I'll be sending yer soul to the very pits o' Hell." He raised his blades, forming a cross with them. "As a messenger of God, I'll split your unholy corpse like a ripe fruit and let your dust mix with the blood of these corrupt bastards, Amen." He charged.

He was fast, and Hunter had to use every trick he had picked up in his centuries and every lesson, fight, and lecture on swordplay just to keep his head attached to his body.

_This might not have been such a good idea after all, _he thought.

* * *

Seras eased a head around the door frame and saw a form crumpled on the floor, dark hair spread about his face. She rushed forward, "Walter!" 

The butler stirred, putting a hand to his head. A large cut across his brow seeped blood. He looked up, and recognition flashed. "Miss Victoria," he said. "We must get to the garage, they are attempting to take Sir Integra."

She nodded, and gestured for them to follow. The trip was uneventful, and as they arrived at the garage, they heard the sounds of heavy gunfire. She recognized the sounds of Alucard's Jackal well. She rounded the corner, Halconnen ready and saw her former master downing several ghouls. She saw several people shove an unconscious looking Integra into one of the armoured trucks. Its motor already idled.

Alucard glanced over his shoulder. "Police Girl," he shouted. Do not let the truck leave!"

She leveled her massive gun at the garage entrance, and fired, dropping enough debris in the doorway that the truck could not pass. She shrugged the ammunition pack off and pulled out her Gravedigger. There were more ghouls approaching, several large groups.

"Shoot them in the head or the chest only," she said back to Amon. She fired, taking one down. Robin glided forward, head lowered like a bull about to charge. Suddenly, the ghouls surrounding her burst into flames and dissolved into dust.

Amon looked at her. "I was wondering when you were going to step in," he said quietly. The girl just shrugged.

Walter stood his ground, flinging out his garrote wires, slicing the approaching horde to ribbons. Seras brought down another, the slide locking back as the last shell ejected. She hit the magazine release and slapped her pockets for another one, coming up empty. She tucked the Gravedigger away and brought out her Socom, when a wash of Déjà vu swept across her. Her vision. She froze, mind locking with recognition.

A ghoul vanished into dust in front of her, and Amon's voice drifted into her thoughts. "Don't fall asleep on the job." he chided softly.

Alucard was already at the truck, ripping the door off and plunging inside. He returned a moment later, rage simmering in his eyes.

"She's gone," he said, and the cold tone in his voice was more horrible than any of the shouting and yelling she had heard through the years. Seras looked at him as his hair writhed, like a thing freed looking for something to wrap around.

Amon looked around. "We're clear," he said. Alucard noticed him for the first time. "Hello, old cold eyes," he said in greeting.

"Hello," he nodded at the vampire.

Alucard turned to Seras. "Hunter?"

She pointed upstairs. "Holding Anderson back."

The Nosferatu shook his head. "That pig isn't the leader. He was the diversion. A vampire was leading the assault."

Seras looked shocked. "That's not possible," she stammered.

Amon nodded. "That explains how they got Sir Hellsing away without our seeing," he murmured.

Robin cleared her throat. "Could he have been masking his nature somehow? We've run into witches that can do that. His disguise may have fooled the priest until those binding spells took effect."

Alucard was already blending into the scenery.

Seras grunted in frustration. She still didn't have the power to fight even the weakened effects of the Writs down here.

Walter merely turned and started striding towards the lift. "I think we should try and get some answers from our dear friend," he said simply, his voice taking on the same tone Alucard's had.

* * *

Hunter leaned backwards at an almost impossible angle, the blade whipping through the air above his body. He then used his momentum to stand on his hands and springing back as the second blade slid through the space where his legs had been. He landed a few feet away, blade held in a high guard, watching his opponent. He bled from several cuts, his shirt hanging in ribbons. He had shucked his jacket to lessen the drag. 

Anderson smiled. "Ye're quite good, monster. I haven't had a good challenge in some time." He raised his blades, setting himself for another charge.

"You know, I really detest the use of the word _monster,_" said Hunter as he parried and spun around attacks. "It's not my fault my mother ran across a vampire in a loving mood one night."

That brought the unholy man to a stop. "So ye're a half-breed," he snarled. "Ye have my pity then, but ye're still an unholy abomination. I'll set ye tortured soul free," he said.

Hunter recognized the ploy and leapt straight up, twisting his body and multiple blades swished through the air beneath him, thudding into the wall. The last time he had seen the priest stand that tall, he had been sliced pretty bad by the coming hail of silver blades. He felt the sting of the cuts as they slowly closed, and landed hard, turning it into a shoulder roll that brought him up close to the man from Iscariot. He started sliding forward, blade flicking out in broad strokes that kept the grip close to his body, allowing him to quickly counter any strikes that would coming in towards him. The priest calmly fending off the strikes, seeking an opening.

Hunter swung in a hard overhand strike, and caught the regenerator in the shoulder, cleaving down into his chest area. Anderson staggered back, taking the sword from the Dhampir's hands. Before Hunter could react, several large blades flicked out and slammed into his chest, blowing him backwards and pinning him to the wall. His weight pulled the blades free and he slumped to the ground, his eyes falling closed as the pain overwhelmed his control.

"Dust to dust, amen." Anderson pulled his own blade from his shoulder, the wound already healing over. Then his arm exploded in fire and he heard the sharp crack of a pistol he had fervently hoped never to hear again. He turned, seeing the large black gun held in the grip of that hated monster.

"Don't even try it, dog." Alucard held both guns on the man. He felt like sinking his teeth into someone and ripping them apart. This regenerator might as well do, though he was sure his blood would taste like shit.

Anderson smiled. "I was wondering when ye were going to show up, monster. I am truly sorry about yer friend," he nodded back at the limp form of Hunter. "He fought well, but now his soul is free from the tortured life of his."

Alucard fired again, taking the priest's other arm off completely. "Don't even try to patronize me, Vatican puppy. Where are they going to take Sir Hellsing?"

The blonde man smiled coldly. "I dinnea know. I just know that by my hand or by the hand of that man, her blasphemous soul will burn in the same pit of Hell that I'll be sending yers."

Alucard smiled. "A man?" he started laughing. "You must need new glasses, Anderson. Don't you realize that the man who hired you was a vampire?"

That took the man back. "Impossible," he whispered.

"Why would I lie? And why would I be up here wasting time with you if it were a man? I would have just torn his throat out and let Sir Hellsing blast you into little smoking pieces." He shot him in the chest twice, driving the man to his knees. Alucard stepped closer, bringing his face nose to nose with the Catholic. "Now tell me where I can find her, Father." he said, making the title an object of scorn.

The man stepped back. His insane smile was back. Pages flowed from his coat. His voice flowed like oil through the night. "Not this time, vampire. I'll finish our business after I take care of the lying bastard." The pages floated down to the floor, and as Alucard seethed in anger, Seras and the others returned. She saw Hunter's body and rushed to it.

She felt his neck for a pulse, then stopped, not knowing if he would have one or not. Amon stepped forward and gently slid her aside, then started pulling the blades from his friend's body.

Robin looked about, seeing the carnage and put her hand to her mouth, paling somewhat. She looked at Hunter, tears gathering at the corners of her eyes. She put her hand on Seras' shoulder. "I'm sorry," she said.

Alucard strode up and leaned over Hunter's form. He then reached down and slugged the prone figure hard. Seras gasped. What was he doing?

He reared back to punch again, but as the punch sailed in, Hunter's hand snaked up and caught his friends fist. "Why am I the one getting hit?" he asked in a winded voice.

Alucard grabbed the tattered remains of his shirt and hauled him to his feet. "Stop sleeping. They got away with Integra." The cold fury in Alucard's eyes seemed to add light to the room.

Hunter coughed, a bit of blood coming to his lips. "Man, I forgot how much getting stabbed hurt. Damn Catholics, always slicing up someone." He froze, turning his head towards Robin. "No offense," he said.

"None taken," she said. "I don't condone this sort of slaughter, even if it is sanctioned by the Vatican."

"Actually, the Pope has been called down on Section XIII several times for their excesses," Walter said as he stepped forward, a bandage on his head.

Amon gazed out the window. Several points in the yard blazed from explosions, but the Hellsing troops seemed to be taking prisoners now. "It appears the main objective was to capture Sir Hellsing," he ventured.

"On top of things as always, stone face." Alucard snarled. His anger was growing, as was his hair. His muscles twitched, as though wanting to rip something apart.

Suddenly, he was flying backwards into the wall. Robin gasped. Hunter stood there, rubbing his split knuckles. Alucard slumped to the ground, stunned. He looked up at the half-breed. "You," he began.

"Get a grip. We won't find Integra by ripping people to shreds. Sunrise is coming soon, so you and Seras should get below. I need to as well. I won't be able to heal completely without some sleep and some blood."

He narrowed his eyes and looked at the rising vampire. "And don't forget, Seras is better at tracking and putting clues together. I think we should let our tempers cool and use our wits instead of our claws."

Alucard smiled a toothy grin, more like a shark than a man. "But that way is no fun," he said. He knew that Hunter was right. But he wanted blood. He only felt rage like this once before, during the first confrontation with Incognito, during which Bobhanshee had attacked his Master.

Hunter didn't back down. After a moment, Alucard yielded. Most unwillingly.

Walter turned to the two guests from Japan. "Welcome to England," he said.

Robin didn't mean to laugh, but the polite greeting was just so out of place.

* * *

The first thing that came back to Integra was pain. Her head hurt. Her arms and wrists hurt. Most of her body hurt, when you came right down to it. 

Then sensation came back. She could feel the shackles that bound her wrists, the feel of iron. She was sitting on the ground, leaning against a stone wall. She opened her eyes, standing up and taking note of her surroundings. The chains the shackles were connected to were bolted into the wall in several points, allowing her a small bit of slack, apparently to reach a hole set in the floor. She didn't need to guess what that was for. The chains were a bit loose between the fasteners, and she gave a few a good tugs to see if they would come loose.

"No need for that," a silky voice said. She turned, seeing the debonair man that had burst into her office just as the reports of Anderson attacking reached the office, interrupting the quiet conversation she had been having with Alucard.

Alucard. Her stomach churned. For her to be here, something must have kept her most fierce defender at bay, or worse.

"Don't worry, your pet is quite alright." The man crossed to her and smiled, revealing two fangs on either side of his mouth. She recognized the rare double teeth. Only a few vampires ever developed those teeth. They were usually completely beyond reason, true berserkers.

For the first time in a long time, she felt a few twinges of fear. She denied it passage to her voice however. "What am I doing here?" she asked imperiously, as though it was no more than an interview. "Why have you abducted me?"

The vampire spread his hands. "Simple. I need your assistance in a small matter."

She laughed. "You must not know me very well. I don't deal with scum."

The vampire looked at her, his eyes suddenly very cold. "I said your assistance. I never implied that it needed to be willing." He turned and walked a few meters away. "I suppose that I should have known better than to let the idiot fledgling of mine loose on England three years ago, though it did further my Master's plans."

She paled. Even after three years, the havoc that Incognito wrought was still fresh in her mind. Not to mention the year she spent in solitary, running Hellsing through Alucard. If this creature was the one that had controlled Incognito, then that meant the _Das Millennium _group was behind this.

But they had been crushed in South America, hadn't they?

_Alucard, _she thought, calling out. But no answer came, no flash of red velvet or grey silk.

"I'm afraid that the Writs about the room will dampen your link to your pet. Oh don't look so worried. He should be perfectly fine. Matter of fact, I may just owe him if he's still alive. It means that crazy preacher is no longer a matter of concern."

Integra looked on, her mind still shouting out.

_Alucard, get your ass here soon.

* * *

_

The next evening, the small group met and assessed damages.

"The only fatalities we had were at the hands of Anderson," Walter began. "Our enemies were armed with tranquilizer darts and concussion explosives. The ones we have in custody are mere mercenaries, hired for this job and paid through intermediaries. They can tell us very little about the vampire that led the assault."

Seras nodded. "It would make sense. Less to link them together, less of a trail."

Amon spoke. "Would we be able to backtrack the payments? Possibly find some electronic trail?"

Walter shook his head. "They were paid the old fashioned way: cash. This implies a well funded group."

Alucard growled. He sat at the end of the table, his booted feet up on the table. "All this is fascinating, but when are we going to go hunting? We have to find her."

Hunter looked at him. "I don't think you should go anywhere. You'd likely tear an informant apart. You, however, can do something that none of us can. You have a mental link with Integra. Use tonight to try and find her while Seras, Amon and I use the streets. Walter and Robin will run the command center."

"And who gave you the right to command, mixed-blood?" Alucard snarled, leaping to his feet. He knew that Hunter would understand it as an insult.

Walter spoke up. "I did. It seems that this is the work of a group he had been tracking for some time now. He is more knowledgeable about them and their tactics than anyone else."

The vampire looked at the butler. Friendship and rage warred on his face, his need to do something and find his Master going against his brain and logic. He sat back down, again, most unwillingly.

"What do you know about them?" he said, the snarl not gone from his voice.

"They are connected to _Das Millennium, _possibly an offshoot or sister organization. We haven't been able to learn anything else. As soon as we break a cell open it dries up. They have been working mostly in North America. New York and Maine were the areas I was assigned to, but there are instances in LA, San Francisco, and Toronto."

Alucard frowned. "Isn't Knight in Toronto?" he asked.

"Was would be the more accurate term. After the night war took too many casualties, he and LaCroix faked his death so he could track down the remaining vampires. Last I heard, he was tracking a group through Winnipeg. I've already called him for any information he might have."

"So what are we going to do?" asked Amon.

Hunter smiled. "We're going to go and sweep the streets for anything unusual. I'm also going to patch you all into some of my contacts and see what comes up. If you'll excuse me," he said, standing and pulling his jacket on.

* * *

"So the Elders don't know anything," Hunter said. "Big surprise." 

"You know it isn't that easy," said the dirty blonde haired man across from him. "There are some things we just can't see, and some that we aren't supposed to interfere in."

"Leo, if this were your wife, you know you'd be threatening to blast a few people yourself. Or whatever it is that you all do," he said, eyeing the man in front of him over the barrel of a mug.

Leo smiled. "I think Paige and Phoebe would beat me to it, but I see what you're saying. I understand your position," he said.

"But because of your new status as an Elder, you can't interfere. Leo, after all we've done, all that we've been through, how can you not help me out?"

"Because there isn't anything to share. We just received word about the attack a few hours ago. I'll keep my eyes and ears open, though."

Hunter stood, dropping a few bills on the table. "Thanks Leo. You know how to get up with me. Oh, before I forget." He pulled a small card from his bag. "Give this to Piper. It's that recipe I told her about."

Leo took the card. "I will. You should come by sometime. Wyatt is getting big. Paige kind of misses you."

"You know me and kids, Leo. And I have no desire to be potion girl's test dummy for some time." He frowned. "What about Cole?"

"What about him?"

"Would he know anything? He was the Source, for a while."

The Whitelighter shook his head. "No. Because of the spell he cast to step into that alternate world, when he was vanquished, he was thrown back into this reality as a mortal. He wouldn't know anything about the current misdeeds of demons."

Hunter nodded. It had been worth a shot, anyway. "Thanks again, Leo."

The man smiled, and disappeared in a burst of blue light.

Hunter started walking away, and stopped at a table where a man sat drinking coffee. He looked down, and patted him on the shoulder. "You can go now Chris. Thanks for keeping an eye out."

The dark haired man smiled, then orbed out as well. Hunter left the deserted restaurant, heading for his next contact.

* * *

Seras walked down the street in Los Angeles, eyes roving back and forth, looking for any clue, any sign that this contact was about. But if the information Hunter had given her was right, he'd probably find her first. 

A quiet footstep behind her caused her to turn. Standing there was a tall man, broad chest with a long wool coat slung over his shoulders. His dark hair was cut short and wasn't quite combed straight. "Angel?" she asked.

"Yeah. Hunter sent you?" She nodded. He pulled an envelope from his jacket and handed it to her. "That's all I've got about the group he'd been tracking. Wolfram and Hart didn't have much on them, which means they were acting without legal counsel."

She took the envelope, thanking him. She started to walk away when he spoke again. "Tell him Spike called him a git and that Buffy said hi. He'll know what you mean." He turned and walked away swiftly.

Seras phased into the shadows, heading back to England.

* * *

Amon sighed as he heard Michael clicking away at his keyboard. "Sorry, Amon. I can't find anything on this group. I'll keep looking." 

"Thanks, Michael." He hung up, turning to stride up the street, heading towards the meeting with this contact.

The middle-aged man sat at a table, cleaning his glasses. A petite brunette sat next to him, some years younger. He stood as he saw Amon.

"You must be Amon," he said, holding out his hand. "Rupert Giles. This is Dawn Summers." The girl shook his hand as well.

"Do you have anything on the group we contacted you about?" he asked.

"Not really, though it seems like quite a few groups have used the name through the years." Dawn said. "Though we are trying to go through a lot of records, so it could be awhile."

Giles spoke up. "I do regret our inability to help, but there is terrible little in our libraries that deal with such groups. Most of them are dedicated to demon lore and ancient texts."

Amon nodded. "Thank you for you time anyway." He stood, Giles and the Summers girl doing likewise. "If I come by any more information that you could clear up, would you object to the call?"

"Not at all," said Giles.

Amon nodded his farewells and left. Brandon Heat should be at the café by now and Amon knew the man didn't like to wait long.

* * *

Hunter walked down the street. So far, no one had turned up any information. Those that were in a position to know anything either had information that he already knew or didn't know anything. 

He came to a small vendor stand and got a cup of coffee to fend off the cold. He stuck a cigar in his mouth, but his matchbook was empty. He turned to the man just behind him in line. "Excuse me, do you have a light?"

The man, wearing a dark suit with crosses at the cuffs smiled and pulled out a matchbook, striking one and lighting Hunter's cigar. Hunter smiled and held out his hand. "Thanks, Mr...."

"Wolfwood. Nicholas D. Wolfwood."

Hunter shook the man's hand. "That's some grip," he commented.

"It comes with the territory," the man said noncommittally.

"Hey, Mr. Preacher, you want anything?" said a voice. Hunter glanced over his shoulder at the tall, slender blonde behind him. His thin frame was swathed in a red duster, his hair up in spikes. In one gloved hand he held a large box of doughnuts, the other already stuffing one in his mouth.

Wolfwood sighed, rolling his eyes. "No, Vash, I'm fine." He paused. "On second thought, you'd better get some pudding for Milly, Tongari." He no sooner spoke the name than a pair of hands settled around his waist as a tall woman came up behind him, a cheery look on her face. "Get what for me?" she asked.

A shorter woman came up as well, in a white dress and blue leggings, stepping up to the man that Wolfwood had called Vash. She stole a doughnut from the box, munching on it as Vash paid for the pudding and doughnuts. The blonde draped his doughnut bearing arm around the shorter brunette's shoulders. "Hey, Insurance Girl," he said, bringing a smile to the woman's face.

Vash handed Milly the large container of pudding, bringing a squeal to her lips. Hunter smiled at the scene of camaraderie. He held out his hand again. "Thanks again for the light, Mr. Wolfwood." He turned to go, passing Vash as he did.

_He really fits the term pointy, _thought Hunter, smiling at the nickname that the preacher had called his friend by. He was several steps further down the sidewalk before the scent lingering in his nose fought past the smell of the cigar. He turned around, brows raised, and saw the butt of a pistol sticking out of the red duster. Several people passed in between the group and him, and by the time they cleared, the group of four people was gone. He looked around, trying to catch a glimpse of the tall blonde. It was as though they had vanished in a wisp of the light fog that had begun to seep into the London air. He gave one last look around, then shrugged and continued on.

_Something about that Vash guy didn't smell quite, right. But it's probably my imagination getting away with me. I need a vacation._

He turned, passing a black cat. He looked down at the cat as it brushed it's large head against his leg.

"I don't suppose you know anything, do you?"

"Meow."

* * *

A/N: I think I'll bring some of these people back. And as for anything I said that doesn't quite line up with the series, rest assured...I'll be using those as launching points for future fics. 


	6. Cameos, Prt II

A/N: Keep an eye out for some cameo lines. I thought they would be amusing. Oh, I noticed that I seem to be beating Hunter up a lot. Ah well...shameless use of other peoples characters and lines.

* * *

He smiled as the cat loped off. For a moment, he had thought that it might actually answer him. That was when the scream reached his ears. He ran, reaching for his pistols, but coming up empty. _Damn, left them back at the manor. All I've got is ammunition and munitions._

He rounded a corner to an alley as gun shots rang out, finding the group of four friends being attacked by several FREAKS. Vash had his pistol out, what looked like to Hunter to be a modified Mateba Long Colt revolver. It fired .45 rounds, just like one of his backup pistols did. Not a problem, if he could get them away from the FREAKS for a moment or so.

The preacher had a Colt .45 auto single grader pistol in his hand. Neither weapon was doing more than making the vampires more than pissed.

The shorter woman had a few derringers lying at her feet. _Now what had she thought she would do with those things? The tall girl's minigun would be better off. _At a closer look, he saw that it was only a gas driven stungun. _Still though, to swing it around like that, she's a strong girl._

One of the FREAKS lunged, causing the blonde's pistol to be knocked from his grip, flying back to land in Hunter's hand. He fired the remaining four rounds, driving the FREAKS back. He marched forward, hitting the release catch, ejecting the spent shells. He reached into his pack, drawing one of his Colt clips out and thumbing six rounds into the cylinder, snapping it shut. He pitched the clip to the preacher. "Head and heart shots only," he said. He put actions to words, firing the heavy revolver twice, putting a round into the head and heart of the first FREAK to stand back up. He swung his aim to another as he heard the semi-auto firing. The remaining three vampires crumpled to dust. He hit the release catch, catching the ejected shells and holding the two silver rounds up.

"Vampires," he said. "Or near enough. Silver rounds put em down for good. Lead just pisses them off." He reloaded the Mateba and handed it to the tall man. "Keep it loaded like that till you leave England."

"What are you?" asked the shorter woman as she collected her tiny pistols.

He smiled faintly, making sure to keep his fangs hidden. "Just a good Samaritan. I deal with garbage like that all the time." He started to walk away when he heard some scrabbling behind him. He spun, seeing two more FREAKS and several ghouls come from further up the alley.

"What a day to leave the cross at the hotel," muttered the priest as he fired again. The lead FREAK reached out to shove a trash midden out of the way, and a black shape leapt out, attaching itself to it face. He stumbled backwards, clawing at the shape even as it leapt from him.

_Was that the black cat from earlier? _thought Hunter. He pulled a small device from his bag, setting his thumb firmly on the switch embedded in one of the grooves. He strode up even as the preacher and the blonde fired the last rounds from their guns, dropping several ghouls.

"If you would step back and mind your selves, I'll clean up the rest." He rolled the sphere forward, then made to step behind a midden, but was grabbed by a FREAK as it rushed forward. He was pulled back, and he turned and slugged the monster hard, turning to duck behind cover even as the grenade exploded, sending silver shrapnel out, dusting the remaining ghouls and the FREAK. Hunter grunted as shards of the metal bit into his flesh as well and the concussion wave threw him into the wall. He slid to the alley floor, dazed.

A black glove slid into his view. He looked at it stupidly for a moment, then took it as the form it was attached to helped him up. He shook his head to clear the ringing. He bled from several cuts and he probably had a mild concussion.

"Thanks," Vash said. "You need help to a hospital or anything?"

Hunter shook his head, digging one of the silver bits from a cut and dropping it to the ground. "No, I'll be fine." He saw the gathered people's faces shift into surprise as the cuts started sealing themselves and forcing what debris there was out. "See?" he said.

Wolfwood smiled. He slapped Vash on the shoulder. "I knew there were people out there as odd as you, Needle Noggin!"

Vash smiled weakly. Apparently, he didn't like the teasing nickname, or the implications that the preacher was making. "Thanks again, Mister. We owe you." He considered the piles of dust. "You're a good shot," he said.

Hunter shrugged. "Good, bad, I'm the one with the gun," he quipped. "Consider it repayment for the light," he said as he pulled another two clips and a notepad from his bag. He scribbled out an address. "Just send the magazines back to this address when you're done with them."

The tall blonde took them and tucked the address and a clip away after handing the other to the preacher. "What are you guys doing with weapons, anyway?" Hunter asked, wanting to let his wounds heal a bit more before moving out.

The woman in white gave a slight frown. "I'm not so sure what we can tell you," she said cautiously.

Milly looked at her. "Oh, lighten up, Meryl." She turned to Hunter. "We're trying to find his brother," she said, jerking her thumb at Vash. "We're to bring him back one way or another." Her cheerful tone almost dispelled the hint of reason for bring such large artillery with them. Apparently, his brother was big trouble.

Hunter stood, raking bits of trash from his hair. "Thanks again for the light," he said, turning to leave.

"Thanks for shooting those goons off our back." Wolfwood said. As Hunter left, he heard him say "You think you can handle killing those things, Tongari?"

"Technically, they're already dead, so yeah, I'll be alright."

Hunter came to the mouth of the alley, seeing the black cat sitting there, cleaning its paws. It looked rather satisfied with itself. He reached out and rubbed its large head. "You look pretty happy. Just what is your story, anyway?" he said playfully.

"Nayow," mewed the cat, glad at the attention.

Hunter smiled and left, blending back into the shadows that cloaked the streets, heading for the local RAF base. His last contact would be there.

* * *

Seras Victoria down the hall to the office where Amon and the others would be waiting. She and Hunter would be the last to return because of the far reaching locales of their assignments. Inside, she saw Alucard sitting in a comfortable chair, his eyes closed but moving restlessly. 

"He's been like that for hours," said Walter. "He has been unable to locate Sir Integra as yet."

Seras dropped the envelope Angel had given her on the table. "This was all Angel had, outside of some greetings."

Amon opened up the envelope and scanned its documents. There were several technical looking papers, a hastily scribbled list of computations, and a piece of parchment that had unusual symbols on it. Seras didn't recognize them.

Amon held up the parchment. "Anyone able to read this?" he asked. No one spoke up.

Robin came in with several sandwiches and a pair of blood packs. Seras drank, feeling a little odd at feeding in front of people that weren't familiar with the thirst she had. It didn't even seem to register as everyone looked at the papers, trying to make some sort of sense of them. "Anyone have any sort of luck?" she asked.

Amon shook his head. "The only thing I got from anyone was the name Erik Valar. Brandon Heat said that there was a lot of talk in the underworld about the call for hired guns." He gestured to the spread out documents. "You came up with more than anyone." He picked up the parchment again. "Maybe that Watcher guy could decipher this."

"No need," Alucard said.

They looked at him. "You can read this?" Robin asked.

"No, but Hunter can. This is an old form of Celtic. He'll be able to read it like it was the back of a cereal box." He picked up his blood pack and began draining it, scanning the technical documents.

Walter looked at the scribbled calculations. "This appears to be a calculation of mass and a cross reference of a lunar chart. What ever it is in regards to will happen at the next full moon."

Alucard glanced out the window. "Six days from now," he said.

Though he was commenting on a time frame, everyone knew he was really saying 'We have six days to find Integra and rip the throat from whoever did this.'

* * *

Hunter shook his head. Why she insisted on doing this was beyond him. He sat in the command couch and pulled the canopy shut over his head. Ever since he had flown with her in the first Gulf conflict, she made it a point to test his skills every time he came by. He fastened the helmet and positioned the microphone/breath mask assembly over his face. He flexed his fingers in the think flight gloves. They were thicker than his usual fingerless ones that he had worn, though they were against regulation. 

"Sam, tell me again why you do this every time we meet?" he said into the mask as he flipped the power switch for the simulator.

Her voice came back. "I want to see if you've atrophied any. Old-timers who don't fly regularly get slow."

Another voice came over the comm. "Sam, don't forget, technically you haven't flown one of these for a while either."

"Affirmative, General O'Neill." She seemed to smile at the title.

"Cut that out. I'm still Jack to you."

The sky appeared on the projection screens around Hunter, and he went through the 'takeoff' like it was pulling on his shoes. He caught the transponder signal for Sam Carter's fighter and turned towards it. He selected guns and started a weave, a corkscrew maneuver that would make it difficult for her to lock on with her missiles. It was a dizzying maneuver, one that humans couldn't duplicate without worrying about suffering a 'red-out', where the blood rushing into their heads made them pass out. He didn't have to worry about that anymore than he did blacking out from lack of blood to the brain. He could and had pulled moves that could have had the ship fail before his body did.

"Cheater," Sam said, firing the first round of cannon fire into the cone that Hunter was forming.

He stood his 'craft' on its left wing and pulled into a steep bank. He wanted to slide in behind her and pepper her tail with a few well placed shots, but he also wanted to enjoy the almost sensation of being in control of an aircraft again. He snapped rolled onto the starboard wing and turned his bank into an S-turn, coming up behind Sam's ship as she reduced speed and banked to where he should have been.

He fired a few rounds, clipping her wing and upright tail fin. "You're getting sloppy, Major."

"Sorry, haven't fought against someone wasn't predictable in a while." She started flipping the craft around, trying to shake his computer lock.

"That's no excuse," Hunter said as he reduced speed and let her pull out in front of him, causing her maneuvers to be less pronounced than they were from up close. He made sure the computer had a solid lock and then flipped over to missiles and fired before the craft had even signaled a lock. A trail of propellant shot out and he watched as it hit her craft, passing through it and exploding on the other side. Her craft spiraled down to the ground, breaking apart and exploding as it did. He hit the power switch again, smiling as he cracked into the mask "The Defense Department regrets to inform you that your daughter is dead due to stupidity."

He unstrapped and stood as the dry "Ha ha ha, very funny, 'Goose'," came over the speakers in his helmet. He shucked it and climbed up and out of the simulator. He looked at the malt-blonde woman climbing out of the sister simulator, her hair somewhat matted to her forehead. The man coming from the control room stood about Hunters height but massed much less, his greying hair cut short and hid under a black baseball cap. The single star on his collar was new, a recent promotion. Both he and Carter had unusual jumpsuits, with a large patch with a Delta shape on it on their left shoulders. He didn't have any clue what it stood for, but he knew better than to ask. He might be brought up to date on it someday, but until then, it was need-to-know.

He shook both of their hands. "Carter tells me you were a hot hand on a stick in the Gulf," O'Neill said. "Why'd you leave the service?"

"I had," he paused, unsure of how to put it. "Other obligations to attend to. Family problems, if you will."

"Bad enough to have you travel around with a small arsenal on your hip?" the general said. So he had peaked in his bag.

"For shame, you shouldn't root through other people's things," he said dryly.

"Not my fault. Daniel came in and knocked it over. So what sort of problems would require you to use silver rounds?"

Hunter had got the impression that he might not be the brightest bulb, but he was quick enough when it came to the military. He smiled, letting his fangs show slightly. "Like I said, family."

He got the hint, but unlike several others that had faced his smile, didn't flinch or blanch. He'd seen some rough things, apparently.

"General O'Neill," a deep voice said from behind them. A tall, broad chested man came up, a gold emblem set in his dark forehead. Hunter barely kept from staring. _That _was unusual. He also caught the slight undercurrent of a second scent about the man, as though he were two beings. Whatever that meant.

"There is a telephone call for Mr. Hunter. Someone called Seras," he said, turning a raised eyebrow to Hunter. The small goatee on his chin bristled as he worked his jaw muscles.

"Thank you, Teal'c." O'Neill gestured towards the control room. "If you would come this way."

* * *

Hunter listened to Seras as she described what Angel had given them, and the parchment. He frowned. Why would something be written in old Celtic? It hadn't even been used to keep records of deeds. It was used for tombstones, but then the people of his village had already been using English at that point. 

"Do you have some sort of Fax machine?" she asked. "We could send it over so you can take a look at it."

He looked at the military types and tried again not to stare at the serpent symbol on the forehead of the man named Teal'c. O'Neill shook his head. "We've got land lines only at the moment, and I'm not so sure how our hosts would take it if we were to commandeer their office to use a fax machine."

"No go on the fax, Seras. Hold on while I MacGyver something up here." He turned to O'Neill. "Got a pen and paper?"

O'Neill shook the odd look from his face and got the requested documents. "Ok, Seras. Just look at the paper and open your mind up."

He sketched out the shapes, and looked at it in surprise. It was Celtic, a _very _old mode, but the words didn't make sense. He scanned the indicators over the sigils that stood for consonants, trying to work out the unfamiliar vowel identifiers. "Thanks, Seras," he said, and hung up.

"Where did you get that?" asked Sam, coming up and looking over his shoulder.

"It's a document my team found in part of an investigation of an underground movement involved in the proliferation of artificial vampires. Which is what I wanted to talk to you guys about."

Teal'c came up and looked at the scribbles. "It bears some resemblance to Goa'uld writing, but the underletters are unfamiliar to me."

Hunter looked at him in confusion. "Goa'uld?" he asked.

"Family problems," O'Neill said, echoing his earlier remark. "What can you make of it, Teal'c?"

"Nothing."

"Hold it, Teal'c, are these vowels?" Hunter asked, pointing to the unfamiliar indicators above the sigils.

"Some. Others are indicators of stress or doubled letters."

"Jot them out, please."

Hunter looked at the page, and with Teal'c's translation managed to scribble out the Celtic in English. He then looked at it as he translated it. Or most of it.

"Something about a signaling device for something called _Anusan. _I don't recognize the term. It isn't Celtic."

"Nor is it Goa'uld. The term is unfamiliar to me as well."

A small man in glasses came in, the combat clothes looking somewhat out of place on him. "Daniel, you know anything about something called Aunt San?" asked O'Neill.

"_Anusan,_" corrected Hunter.

"Oh, of course." The small man rubbed the back of his neck as he thought. "Old Romanian, possibly Transylvanian or Walachian in origin, dating back to..."

O'Neill put his hand over the man's mouth. "How about telling us what it means, huh?"

"Devil's Hand."

"Great," said Hunter. As if life wasn't hard enough with the FREAKS, now they wanted to bring in the Devil. He wondered about calling up Cole to see if he knew anything about it.

"Heard of it?" asked Sam.

He shook his head. "No, but if it isn't just some grand term for something, then it's going to be big trouble." He stood. "Thanks for your help, guys. If you ever need another pair of hands or another three eyes, give me a call."

"Three eyes?" asked Daniel.

But Hunter had already phased into the shadows on the wall, surprising all in the room as they watched the slight ripple on the wall. 

O'Neill said to no one in particular "Ah well," He looked at his friends and shrugged. "More coffee for me."

* * *

Integra sat somewhat slumped as the jailor brought in her meal. He looked at her. She appeared asleep. He went up and put the tray down in front of her and stood, turning around to leave. He then felt something wrap around his neck and a sharp pain, then nothing. 

Integra unwrapped her legs from his broken neck, releasing the chains she had held onto to hold her at that height. She hooked the toe of her shoe in the ring of keys on his belt, fumbling with her manacled hands for the one that would release her.

* * *

A/N: What, you thought I'd let her just stay locked up? This is Sir Integral Hellsing!

* * *

She slipped from the room, and checking for patrols, made her way up the corridor, seeking freedom. She paused as the vampire's voice came up the stone hall, speaking to someone. 

"Her blood will help with the opening of the Seals," he said.

She shook her head in disgust. Why was it every vampire that she faced personally wanted her blood for anything other than drinking? She thought that there was only one that she would even consider letting taste her blood. She shook her head in surprise.

Where had that come from? That, that flash, that glimmer of feeling? For Alucard?

She missed what the other voice said as another came into play, raised in anger.

"Erik! Why did you leave my men to be caught, captured? I worked hard to get those men and harder to train them!"

"Calm yourself, Knives. There was no huge loss, and you will be well compensated for your troubles." The smooth voice was obviously not concerned. "In any case, we should be glad that they did not anger that priest. I understand that he can be rather, sharp tongued when it comes to his sermons." There was a bit of laughter.

"What do I care about the religions of spiders? But you said that there would be no complications, no problems. What happened, O Great One?" his smooth voice spoke in taunting tones. This one wasn't used to being the servant, Integra noticed.

"The arrival of the two vampires and two witches is somewhat concerning, but not overly so. Calm yourself," There was a sound like the bunching of cloth.

"It wasn't just two vampires, your Worshipfulness." There was a chuckle of derision. "One was a Dhampir, by name of James Hunter. He has been known by many others through the years, as well. Perhaps you would know him as Robin Valar?"

There was a sound like the hissing of snakes. The smooth voice of Erik came softly, coldly.

"So, it seems as though my wayward son is finally starting to make a name for himself. Pity, when it comes time for me to kill him. I rather thought he had potential when he was younger."

Integra gasped at this. Hunter was this maniac's _son_? What was going on?

The voices were getting softer, moving down the corridor. She slid out, heading for the stairwell she saw not too far down the hall. If she got far enough from the Writs, she could call out for Alucard and get out of this hellhole.

But even though she thought about the dire situation she was in, she couldn't quite force that image of the vampire's Cheshire cat grin from her face. Or the phantom feel of his arms around her body.

* * *

Erik Valar sat upon his throne, eyes shut, sending his mind out to his son, knowing that the blood that ran in his veins would let him communicate on this level. It would, however, be a bit painful for the recipient. 

Such a shame.

He found his son's mind, and stabbed into it.

* * *

Hunter was in the midst of describing the translation when a steel spike was driven into his skull. He collapsed, hands gripping his temples as a wave of agony rippled through his body, squeezing his stomach and cramping his legs. His fangs sprung into full force, his fingernails lengthening somewhat, eyes going transparent. His mouth was open in a wordless scream, lungs unable to force any air through his vocal chords. 

_I have something of yours, son. Why don't you and your friends come and get it? I'm sure that you and I will have a lot to talk about, old times to remember._

Hunter's throat was released and a distressed scream came from him as the pain of the invasion was increased as the steel spike was pulled from his mind. He just laid there, feeling the waves of pain flowing through his body, feeling for the hole that had to be in his skull, dimly hearing the voices of his comrades speaking in concerned voices.

_Father, _he thought as his vision swam in and out of focus. _Of all the things I needed right now._

As he blacked out, he saw Seras kneeling over him, tears in her eyes as she tried to get him to respond, and recalled idly that the first thing he had meant to teach her was how to shift her outer appearance so that she could hide her eyes without having to use contacts or glasses.

_They are rather beautiful eyes, _he thought as he fell through the layers of pain into blissful unconsciousness.

* * *

"What are we going to do?" asked Seras as she looked at the peaceful form of Hunter on the couch. 

"I don't know. I am rather distressed at this," Walter admitted. "I've never seen anything like this before."

Alucard looked at the prone figure. "I have. When mental contact is initiated between a Dhampir and its sire without consent, it causes a lance of pain in the mind of the recipient. I seem to recall that it is rather intense the one time I felt it."

"You've got a Dhampir son?" asked Walter, amazed.

"Yup, good old Junior." He chuckled. "He is off somewhere, trying to deal with that damned parasite he picked up somewhere. He always was a bit too independent for his own good."

Robin brought in a basin of water and a towel, cleaning the blood that had flowed from the lips Hunter had bit in the convulsions that had followed his passing out. When she was done, she placed the damp towel on his forehead to help keep him cool. "He's got a bad fever," she commented, wisps of her blonde hair trailing across her face.

Amon was on the phone with that Watcher he had mentioned earlier. Seras looked at him, wondering what they would turn up about this Devil's Hand.

"Has anyone given thought about what he said?" Seras looked around. While he had been on the floor, he had said the words that had bidden in his mind. "What would his father have of his?"

"His life, possibly." Walter said. "Most Dhampirs and their sires are bound to battle, with only one able to survive. Should the offspring win, by drinking the blood of his parent he is given the chance to be human again."

"It could be Integra," Alucard said. "Why else would he contact him?"

"It could be a stapler, for all we know." Seras stood. "We need to wait until he recovers before we speculate. In the meantime, I'm going to go and see what else I can find out."

Alucard watched as she phased from the room. Yes indeed, his fledgling was showing backbone and independence. It was a good sign.

He looked down at his inert friend, his slashed lips moving as he talked in whatever fevered dreams he was having. Too bad it had come at the cost of his friend's health.

* * *

As she had before, she leapt from one shadow to another all the way to LA. She meant to find this Angel fellow and find out what he knew. He had to know something. She felt tears forming at the corner of her eyes but forced them back. She stepped out in the dark boardroom of a posh office building, seeing Angel standing with a short blonde woman and an athletic looking man with bleached hair. They turned and looked at her in surprise. Then the bleach-blonde rushed her, saying "I've got this one, guys." 

_Great, _she thought as she threw him across her hip in an old police takedown move. _A hunter. _She pulled out her Gravedigger. "Aw, you look like a sensitive, intelligent guy. Don't make me shoot you. I'm in a hurry."

"No worries there, lamb." he said from his place on the floor. "But I object to the 'sensitive' crack,"

"Spike, calm down." Angel went to help his friend back to his feet. "She's with Hunter."

"Why couldn't she have said so, then?" he said, standing and brushing the sleeves of his leather coat. "Look, love," he said to her as he righted himself. "Around here, vampires don't just go about popping into people's offices. It makes some of us a bit stake happy."

"It wouldn't have worked on me anyway," she said.

"Whoa, it wouldn't have worked on you?" the blonde girl looked back and forth between her and Angel. "When did they get all wood resistancy?"

Angel looked at her with a look of patience. "Two strains of vampires, Buff. One, ours, was here from the start. The other, hers," he said, gesturing at Seras. "Came about later as a deal with the Devil. Or the Source. Whatever he's calling himself these days."

Seras looked at him, hands posted on her hips. "Could we do this at another time? Hunter's been hurt, and I need to know anything you have on the Devil's Hand. We're already talking to some Watcher in England,"

"Talking to old Rupert, are you, lamb?" said Spike. "He'll talk the ear off of whoever is meeting with him and not a word of it'll be proper English. It'll be some mixed up translation of Gibberese or something, even with Nibblet there to help him out." He lit a cigarette.

"Spike, tone down the tough guy act." Buffy turned towards Seras. "What do you need?" she asked.

Seras smiled and laid out what she needed. "If you could cause chaos or mayhem to distract some people while I slip in, that is," she said. 

Buffy smiled and gestured at the two vampires. "Meet Chaos and Mayhem. They're a double act."

* * *

"Leo!" the brunette called, brushing her long hair from her eyes. She stood for a moment, then called out again. "LEO!" 

The man orbed in behind her. "What, Piper?"

She looked at him, hands brushing against the slight swell of her stomach. "You know very well what. Now get in there and deal with _your _son."

"Which one?" he asked.

She didn't have a chance to answer as the door to the manor blew open and a demon leapt in, energy ball leaping out. Piper gasped, hands flying up in reflex. The demon froze in midleap, as did the energy ball. She frowned at the frozen figure. "Oh, you," she said, pointing a finger at it. Paige came in, vial in hand. A few moments later, it was a pile of ash and Piper waved her hand back towards the living room.

"The older one," she said. The smashing of wood caused them to turn, seeing the hole the energy ball left in the piano as her waving hand had released it before Paige could dispose of it.

"Oops," she said.

At that moment, there was a jingling sound. Leo looked at his wife. "Saved by the bell," he said.

"Oh no, don't you even think," He orbed out. "About orbing out on me." Piper finished. She turned to Paige.

"Don't look at me, he's _your _husband." She put down the bucket of water she had intended to douse the energy ball with. She brushed her skirt clean. "I'll be going now," she said, orbing.

"LEO!"

He returned, a look of concern on his face. "Piper, not now. We just took a big hit and someone is about to open a gateway for a massive evil."

"What do we do, then?" she asked.

"Nothing." His face didn't ease. "This is something that the Charmed Ones can't face. All we can do is keep an eye out for increased demonic activity."

The sound of a breaking vase came from the living room, followed by a delighted child's giggle.

"Leo," she began, but he was already gone.

* * *

_He was in a long corridor, draped in a coarse brown robe, its hood drawn over his head. In his hand was a sword, cold light coming from its blade. He looked around, not recognizing the area or the scents. Sounds floated up, voices. He didn't know what they were saying or who was speaking._

_He started heading towards the end of the corridor, and he felt something bouncing against his leg. He looked down, and saw a long monk's rosary. He picked it up, and felt the round wood beads._

_A voice floated up, in Chinese. His mind translated almost automatically. "What is Laughter, what is Joy, when the world is ever burning? Shrouded by darkness, would you not seek the light?" He recognized it as part of the meditations he had learned from a man in Peking almost a hundred years ago. _

_Another voice came to him, a thick and hearty voice. He recognized the voice of Carl Sandburg, but he had never met the man. The voice said "I'm an Idealist. I don't know where I'm going, but I'm on the way."_

_Another voice, tinged with American Indian subtones. "You know, the next time you people come to drive us off our land I'm gonna find a nice piece of swampland that's so God-awful maybe then you'll leave us the hell alone!"_

_What was going on? Voices from the past and movie quotes? What was next?

* * *

_

Alucard felt the turmoil in his friends mind, and was about to help ease it when a voice cut through his mind like a knife. _ALUCARD!_

He jerked, recognizing Integra's call. He turned to Robin and Walter. Amon was still on the phone, dictating what he was being told.

"Watch him," he said, fading from sight, his hat in hand. "I'm going to get my master."

And with that, he was gone.

* * *

A/N: Ok, I've taken Hunter out of commission because he's been moving too much to the front. I want to do some Seras development and build on the AxI bit. So if anyone actually has taken a liking to him, don't worry...he'll be back eventually. 


	7. It Begins

A/N: I've had somebody email me about what the deal with the black cat was and why the mercenary refered to religion as the religion of spiders. For those of you who didn't catch it, the cat was Kuroneko_-_sama and the Merc leader was Millions Knives. And to those of you who are going to say that the dogfight took to little time, most large scale dogfights take place in the space of a few mintues, with most of the kills taking place in the first sixty seconds.

Norman's speech is mostly taken from a book I was reading earlier today...it seemed to fit the whole philosophy angle, so I paraphrased it a bit.

I don't own jack...sadly....

* * *

_Battlefield in Africa, World War I. The 181st Infantry battalion. The old service revolver cracked once, then clicked on an empty cylinder. He cracked the breech and knocked the empty shells out, reloading. He continued moving back, drag man for the last team out from the German advance. They hadn't reached his location yet, and those few German soldiers he had run across hadn't survived. He came across a hunched form wearing a British uniform. He knelt and was shocked to see the face of Norman, one of his closest friends in the group. He was deathly pale, a large spot of blood coating his abdomen. He looked up with eyes glazed in pain but still as bright as the day they had met._

_"Norman," he said, gripping the man by the shoulders. "Can you walk?"_

_The dry wheeze of a laugh sickened his heart. "I doubt it, mate. Get out of here."_

_"I'm not leaving you again," he said, then froze. Again?_

_Indeed, for this was the ghosts of an earlier memory that he was reliving in his mind, no matter how real it seemed. The wheezing of Norman brought his attention back to the situation at hand. "Just leave me here, James. Go, if they come by here, I'll give a good accounting. Go!" He gave Hunter a weak shove._

_"You'll die, Norman. I can get you out of here, to a medic."_

_"Everyone dies, James. It's only a question of where and how," he started coughing, blood on his lips. _

_James pulled several shells from his pockets and pressed them into his dying friend's hands. He knew that he wouldn't convince his friend otherwise. "Honor be with you, and angels sing you to your rest."_

_"Get going, you poet." _

_Hunter looked up, seeing the advancing German troops and took off, staying low. He heard the sharp crack of a British pistol firing several times, followed by the low snap of a German rifle. He kept running, feeling like he had betrayed his friend. "Norman," he whispered. Unbidden, a conversation they had about the nature of justice, death, and evil came back to his mind. Hunter had remarked on how it seemed evil that so many young men had died on both sides because someone decided that they wanted to take over the world. Norman and smiled and spoke words that rang true._

_"Everyone dies_. _It is the final and only Justice that finds all it seeks. Evil exists; it is intelligence in the service of entropy. If the side of a mountain slides down to kill a town or village, this is not evil, for evil requires intent. Should a man cause this landslide; then there is evil and requires Justice as a consequence so that civilization can exist. It shows that there are consequences for violating the basic tenants of Life. There is no greater good then Justice, and only if law serves Justice is it good law. It is correctly said that law exists not for the just, but for the unjust; for the just carry the law in their hearts and do not need to call it from afar."_

_As he ran, he kept thinking that justice seemed so often to abandon those who truly deserved it.

* * *

_

Integra watched as two guards talked idly by the door. They were lax, their rifles up against the wall behind them as they threw playing cards down in some game or another. The sidearms were both as good as kilometers away from their hands as slouched as they were in the rickety wooden chairs.

But the two might as well have been a thousand for all the good it did her. They were in the middle of the hall leading to the door. A hall that was perfectly straight with no places for her to hide while moving up to them. They would see her in an instant and be armed the heartbeat after that.

She eased back into the alcove she had sequestered herself, no longer caring about the grime on her suit and the cobwebs in her hair. Escape was her primary thought now. She was so close, she knew that if she could get to that door, she could get away.

_So close, _she thought. She shut her eyes, and it hit her. She had climbed two flights of stairs, and she had yet to see a Writ since leaving her cell. She shouted as loud as she could in her mind.

_ALUCARD!_

At that moment, there was a scrabbling sound at the table, and she peeked out. One of the guards was backing away towards her quickly, hand at his side for his pistol but forgetting about the snap down, hauling the pistol up but not freeing it from the holster. As he took another few steps, Integra saw what had frightened this man to the point of unthinking flight.

His partner was hanging in the air, held aloft by a white gloved hand. Beyond that hand were two red eyes, blazing with fury. The form eased out of the shadows some more, revealing a gaping maw of needle sharp teeth. The upheld guard was suddenly in two pieces, both of them hitting the walls with a wet _ppplopp _and sliding to the ground. Alucard began to advance towards the retreating guard when he bumped into Integra from behind, turning slowly to see what it was he hit, as though he was afraid to look.

All he saw was her fist shooting out and catching him square in the jaw. He went down like a sack of bricks. She appropriated his pistol and ammunition.

"You're late," she said to Alucard as though it was a tea engagement, not her rescue.

He shrugged. "Traffic has been horrendous." He reached out and fingered her hair, the cobwebs in her tresses. "The new look is most becoming."

She slapped his hand away, and then stepped forward, scanning the hall. No one coming, good. She turned back. "Get us out of here," she said. "I have no wish to remain the guest of this madman any longer." Alucard took her by the arm and started walking towards a wall, only to bump up against it. He slid his hand across it, a puzzled look on his face. He frowned. "The sun is rising," he looked at her. "We're going to have to do this the old fashioned way, I guess."

Before she could ask what he meant, he had kicked the door in, both guns pulled out. He strode through the hallway, guns held out, scanning the empty hall with his eyes. Integra followed him, the captured Mauser pistol held firmly in her hand. They reached the opposite end and pulled open the door, seeing a long corridor with a pair of lifts at the end.

"I don't like this," growled Integra. "Where are the guards?"

Alucard merely laughed. "We won't be using the lifts, Master."

She looked at him in surprise. "Then what will we be using, with your powers fading? Or is your mind going along with your powers?"

He tucked his pistols away, and theatrically cocked a wrist, a finger extended straight up.

At an air vent.

She looked at him. "I'm not fourteen anymore."

"It's the only place that they wouldn't look for you at the start. And it would undoubtedly give you time to rest and time for us to wait for sundown." He looked at her, eyebrow raised. "Or is it that you don't want to get dirty with whatever filth that happens to be in the shafts?"

She glared, but gestured for him to pull the shaft open. He pulled the grate off, then boosted her in. She hooked her hands on the lip of the horizontal duct and pulled herself in, just as she had those years ago. She heard the grate being placed back in its seating and was about to call out to him when a fog seeped in and coalesced into her servant. The duct was large enough for them to move through it side by side. They moved a short ways away from the access point, reaching a large junction point large enough for them to sit straight up against the wall.

Integra leaned her back against the wall of the duct. The fatigue of the last day or so was catching up with her. She ached from lack of sleep and her stomach rumbled with hunger. She should have grabbed something from that tray her guard had brought, but she didn't want to give anyone the chance of catching her before she had made good her escape.

Alucard looked at her, the cobwebs in her hair and the grime on her clothes. He reflected that he must have looked much the same when he approached her in the dungeon. A strange feeling burbled up inside of him like air released from a spring. It was more than the loyalty that he held for her, as his master, or the respect that he had for her as a warrior.

It spread a slight warmth through his insides, a warmth he had not felt since a woman long ago in Walachia, when he had still been human.

He shook his head, dismissing the idea. She was his master and a Hellsing besides. They could be friends, but the idea he was entertaining would surely get him thrown back in that cell where he had rotted for twenty years.

_But it would be so nice, after so long,_ he thought.

One thing that he would never admit, not to Integra, not to Walter, and not even to himself at times, was that there were fierce emotions at play in his heart.

Which was not to say that they would not have anyway. Vampires had the same capacity for emotion as humans. It was just that he didn't want to admit this one even to himself.

He was beginning to feel the press of loneliness.

It was one of the reasons that immortality was seen as a curse. To watch friends grow old and die, and their children, and their grandchildren. It was a nightmare that they could not wake from. And in the end, those that still had hearts insulated themselves against feeling that pain, acting aloof and slightly insane as he did or locking themselves away as Helena had done. But the reason was the same. It kept people at bay.

They had no wish to be hurt, a hurt that would not fade with time as physical wounds. Pain that due to the increased clarity and capacity for recall of their minds would echo for their enitre lives. And after a while, they could even convince themselves that they no longer cared.

But it was just that: a lie to themselves.

Perhaps that was why he had turned the Police Girl. True, he had seen the fire and the iron will that would be a boon to the Hellsing Organization, but above that, she would be a comrade that wouldn't fade through the years.

Meanwhile, Integra felt sleep dragging at her eyelids, pulling her head. She found herself leaning on Alucard's shoulder, her head resting comfortably on its slope. She started drifting when she realized what she was doing. She sat up, apologizing.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have intruded."

He snapped out of his reverie, realizing what she had said. He smiled, one of the few genuine smiles that he gave. "It's alright. You are exhausted. If it would help you sleep, then lean against me."

She leaned against him, and he slid his arm around her shoulders to make it more comfortable for both of them. She settled in against his chest, warm despite his undead body. She felt safe, as she had back on that day when she had shot her uncle, his arms wrapping around her as she cried, seeking solace from the only person available. She draped an arm around his waist and felt his arm settle across her body. "Alucard," she began.

"Shh, sleep. You need your rest."

She tilted her head up, looking at his face. His eyes were distant, his mind elsewhere. "Alucard, I..." she trailed off. He looked down, bringing his face nose to nose with hers.

"Yes?" His breath held a metallic tang. _The iron in the blood he drinks, _she thought.

"Thank you for coming," she said, her voice quiet.

He smiled, another genuine smile. "As my Master called, so I came. The employment prospects for a fifteen hundred year old vampire aren't good."

She smiled, but was unable to move her face from where it was, so close to his. She could smell him, the strange mustiness, like that of old books or a jacket hung in a closet for years, a hint of gunpowder. Power, and loyalty, and safety. She didn't know how, but she could smell those in him.

He looked at her, seeing at once the face of the young teenager that had released him, the face of the older teen that had asked him to escort her to a formal dance, and the face that was now looking at him. All the polite bickering they had through the years flashed between them, the taunting he had offered and the cold responses she had hurled back. He felt his face dip a bit closer, his nose brushing against hers.

Her thoughts were also on the taunts and the tricks he had played on her. Just her, for her father's journals had never mentioned such insubordination, nor did anyone else in the mansion except Seras Victoria. _Why just me?_

She felt his nose against hers, and looked into his eyes, seeing the deep crimson that filled the orbs completely. _No, not completely. There are still traces of brown in them._

She leaned forward, and kissed him, her eyes falling shut as she did so.

* * *

Seras phased back into being, releasing her hold on Buffy. The woman stumbled, doubled over. "I think I'm going to be sick," she said.

"Sorry about that," Seras offered. She had forgotten some humans were disoriented by traveling through shadows. She turned back to the two vampires she had brought first. "How does it look?" she asked.

Spike turned to her. "There are three guards, one patrolling at ten minute intervals and two at the gate. Armed with rifles, sabers, and pistols. Nothing major."

Angel crouched down next to them. "No cameras, not that it would register our presence anyway, but there could be other countermeasures."

She nodded, and Spike spoke again. "So, let me get this straight, love. You want us," he said, flicking his thumb back and forth between him and Angel. "To go down and draw the attentions of those three and whatever other guards - who are trained to kill our kind, mind you - there are so that you can go and talk to some souped-up vampire hunter-killer and bring him back out, at which point we'll all go merrily on our ways, is that right?"

She nodded, knowing how stupid it sounded. But the man inside that compound was the only link they had to this whole thing thus far. She had to talk to him. "That about sums it up," she said.

"Well, then, what are we waiting for?" he said, rubbing his hands together. "Not the first time we've gone toe to toe with slayers, is it Angel?"

He smiled ruefully. "No, though those times the prospects were a bit more enjoyable," he said, glancing at Buffy, who would be watching Seras' back while she did the scout work. She reached out and shoved the dark haired man. "Suck up," she said.

Spike pursed his lips in a smirk. "I have to agree with him, lamb. The slayers we faced, you included, were much more of a joy to look at. Even throwing Faith into the mix, it was a delight each time we faced off with one."

Seras decided that there was a lot she didn't know, but as the third guard rounded the corner away from them, she nodded towards the small compound. "Time to go, people." She pulled out her Socom and flicked the safety off.

Spike and Angel both smiled, their faces altering, eyebrows disappearing as their foreheads ridged over. Their eyes went yellow and fangs grew. They looked more like predators than men. She shivered at the look. The two men hopped the low hedge and headed up to the compound, faces low, hands in pockets. Seras and Buffy followed close behind. As they neared the gate, the two guards stepped up, one saying "Excuse me, you can't be here."

Angel replied. "I'm sorry, we just wanted to ask for directions." He still kept his face down.

The guard frowned. "Directions for what?"

Angel brought his fanged visage up to meet the guards eyes. "On the fastest way into your heart. Would it be straight through the chest, or is it truly through the stomach?"

The guards stumbled back as both vampires leapt forward, punching and kicking. Seras ran up to the door and kicked it in. Two men inside jumped from their tables, surprised she knocked one back with a blow, and she saw Buffy holding her own with the other. As both of their opponents slid to the floor, they were already down the hall, eyes and ears alert for any sign of guards. They came up to a door, and Seras slid it open. Inside was a small medical ward. She and Buffy slid in, closing the door behind them.

There was only one bed occupied, it's patient a large man. He had his arms crossed over his chest as though holding something precious to his chest. Seras stepped up and looked at him. His arms were muscled and unscarred, but they weren't as dark as the skin of his chest, as though they were younger. She put the Socom to the temple of the man and said some rather simple words.

"Get up, Anderson. We need your help."

* * *

Amon and Robin sat by the couch Hunter rested on. They had been watching him for well over seven hours now. Walter had gone to administer the hunting orders for the parties in the field. There was no change in the Dhampir hunter's condition. If anything, it seemed to be getting worse, with him mumbling words that made no sense to them.

Walter returned. "Has Alucard not returned yet?"

Amon shook his head. "No, nor has Seras." He looked down at the pages he written while talking to the Watcher, Giles. "I hope they get back soon though. This is very bad news and I don't like the way it is shaping up."

Robin turned to him after laying the redampened towel on her charge's forehead. "What is the Devil's Hand?" she asked.

"According to this, it allows a person to draw the life essence of anyone and absorb their powers, like a leach drawing blood. So far, any attempts at calling this power have resulted in the deaths of those performing the rituals. However,"

Walter spoke up. "All of those people had been mortal."

"Yes. It's speculated that if a vampire were to undergo the ritual, he might well survive, since he is technically dead already." He looked down at the pages of notes. "According to this, the blood of a noble born warrior and the blood of a willing sacrifice must be poured onto a seal drawn in consecrated dust as the moon passes through the house of Mars. Which," he said, looking up. "Is in five days now."

"Noble blood," mused Robin. "That's why they took Sir Integra. But what about the willing sacrifice?"

Walter paled. "That's why they did it so brazenly. They wanted to rile Alucard up, get him in a frothing rage."

Amon looked at him. "Why do that? I'm sure that there are other ways to get a willing sacrifice that doesn't involve possible suicide."

"No, don't you see?" he said. "Alucard will do anything on behalf of this organization, and has placed his life in dangerous situations time and again. To save Sir Integra, he would sacrifice his life if required. They intended to use them both in the ritual."

He looked out at the waning night. "And now both of them are there, in the grip of that monster."

* * *

Integra delighted at the feel of his lips. Like his body, they were surprisingly warm. He just sat there for a moment, then eased into the kiss. His arm held her close and she reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck. They sat like that, locked in that embrace for time indeterminate, and then she pulled back, just enough to look in his eyes. They had both shifted slightly, pulling closer together.

"I'm sorry," she said, looking down. "I..."

He placed his hand under her chin and brought her face around to his again. She thought he was going to say something but he instead placed his lips on hers again. She reveled in it, the taste of his lips, of his breath. His hand slid across her face and threaded into her hair, cradling her head in his large palm gently. She had seen him crack skulls like eggs with his hands, but she felt no danger, only a warm safety, and a feeling of belonging.

She closed her eyes again, breathing in his scent. Some small part of her screamed at this, that she had no right consorting with a vampire like this, but the majority of her sang as she returned the kiss. Her blood raced in her ears, her heart beating against her chest. His lips moved away from her lips, across her cheek to her neck and she gave a groan of displeasure at the breaking of contact. There was a slight pain at her neck, and she pulled back, only to see him bite his own wrist, bringing blood to the surface. He held his wrist out. "Mix your blood with mine," he said, no longer in the taunting, singsong way he had through the years. "It will give you strength, more endurance for a short while. The effects of mixing this small amount would be temporary only." His eyes held an earnestness that she had never seen before.

Moved by some force she couldn't explain, she moved his wrist up to the small punctures on her neck, and felt their blood mingle. She felt a surge of strength flow through her, and her senses grew as well. The smells, sounds, and sights were more evident, as was the slight motions of the tendons in Alucard's arm. She felt the blood at her neck flowing, could sense the change in her. He took his arm away, licking the wound and then her neck. They healed over, sealing. She looked at him, knowing now why he walked with that confident step. He had this feeling all the time.

He leaned back against the wall of the duct. He pulled her in to his side, cradling her in his arms. "Sleep, Integra. You need your rest. You will heal and regain your strength faster now." She nodded, resting her head against his chest.

He caught himself stroking her hair and forced himself to stop. "No," she murmured, sleepily. "I don't mind." She was thinking of Hiromi, who would stroke her hair just as he had been.

Just as her mother had, in what few memories she had of her.

He smiled down at her. "As you wish,"

Later, as she lay sleeping in his arms, he considered his options. When the sun set, he could get her out and home. But what of the bastard that had done this? He had to be dealt with.

But it was Hunter's father. He could smell the familiar scent in the halls. It wasn't his place to deal with the monster, as much as he would like to. This was a battle destined for the half-breed, and only one of them would walk away from it. He could keep others from interfering, but ultimately, the fight would be between Hunter and his Sire. Destiny and Nature would allow no other pairing. It was the law of his world.

A part of his mind told him to stop analyzing everything and just enjoy this feeling, of the sleeping Master of Hellsing cradled in his arms.

He was struck by the contrast. She was so strong and so powerful when awake, equally comfortable on the shooting range or at the head of a briefing table. She brooked no defiance from those in her command or those opposing her. She had seemed an unstoppable force, much like himself.

Yet at this moment, her face was like that of the young girl that had released him, so innocent, the cares of the world wiped from her face. She had a slight smile on her face, a contented look as she shifted in his arms.

He would kill anyone who dared to harm this woman. He wondered at the strength of his conviction. Surely, anyone who dared harm his Master deserved what fate they called down on them, but he had never felt this strongly about it with any of the previous members he had served. It brought that feeling back up.

Love. Love fueled by the respect that she had earned through her actions as the leader of Hellsing. Love fueled by the bond that they had shared, more than the one that had linked him with her father. Love fueled by the admiration of her spirit, the indomitable will that she carried.

He was still stroking her hair, though she could not feel it. Something about it eased the small spot of pain in the back of his heart. A part that he had thought had died long ago. The part that had felt the need to be wanted, to be respected like any other person.

His humanity.

"Damn it," he said. He so enjoyed being a monster. This would complicate things.

* * *

The man's eyes shot open and took in the view of the red orbs that were narrowed at him. He sat up slowly, watching her back away to keep him from grabbing the weapon.

"What d'ye want, wretched beast?" he growled. He was still weak from having to regrow his arms. He didn't think he would be up for a long fight, even against the whelp. But something in her had changed, become tempered. He knew that this was not the easiest place to walk into, but she had done so.

"We've got to stop that vampire from invoking whatever it is he's going to bring up." She looked at him. "We worked together to deal with that group of Nazi's in South America. Can you handle working with us one more time?"

He snorted. "I barely tolerated that time," he said. "Clean up yer own mess, she-devil."

She narrowed her eyes even more. She shot him four times point blank. He flew off the gurney, slamming into the wall. Buffy spun at the sound.

Anderson stood, the bullet wounds healing over. Buffy shook her head. "Those things," she said, pointing at the gun. "Never helpful."

Seras strode up to the regenerator and slammed her fist in his face, driving him against the wall. As he recovered, she gripped him by the throat and snarled at him, her fangs bared.

"Look, you misguided son of a bitch," she snapped. "I can never forgive you for killing Captain Gareth, for the soldiers that I trained that you murdered. I _will_ _never_ forgive you for stabbing me that night in the hospital. But I will work with you if it means that no more of my friends have to die. I'm tired of loosing people I care about in this damned war." Her mind flashed back on them: Fargason, Gareth, Pickman.

Pip.

"Ye brazen _urk!" _His voice cut off as she clamped down on his throat.

"I'm not finished," she said, her voice sliding down into icy tones. "I don't like you and you don't like me. That's dandy. But we have a common enemy in this, and he's trying to bring something into this world that will be a hundred times worse than any vampire. And you can be damned sure that if he succeeds it will be impossible to stop him then."

She was mad, madder than she had been in memory. Her Master taken prisoner, men she had trained killed by this bastard as a _diversion,_ and Hunter, whom she felt something for, lying in a coma. All because of some vampire that had manipulated them, all because he wanted more power. She was tired of it all. She brought the Socom up and put it right over his left eye.

"Now I am not above blowing your skull apart a few times to get you to cooperate, but I'd rather not waste the bullets." She shoved him against the wall, his head ringing on the metal sheets. She stepped back, the dark material of her tunic and jeans making her blend into the shadows somewhat.

Anderson fought against the lightheadedness and pain in the back of his head. For the first time since he had seen her here, he had actually wondered if he had pushed things too far. He wasn't at full strength, and this she-vampire seemed perfectly willing to rip him to shreds. She wasn't the weak, pitiful thing he had stabbed those few years ago.

And he had to admit that she had a point. That bastard, Erik Valar, had made a fool of him, and he wanted to get back at him. It seemed that this would be the fastest way to do so.

Seras had started to squeeze the trigger on her pistol again when he looked up and said, in a voice so quiet that she almost didn't hear him. "Alright,"

She lowered her pistol. "You'll work with us, not against us?"

He looked at her, squinting over the rim of his glasses. "I'm not working with you. It just happens that we have the same target and will be going against him at the same time." He knew that Maxwell would have his hide if he thought that he was working with Hellsing. Maxwell knew exactly how to harm him in a way that would leave scars.

Seras thought it over for a while, then nodded. Her eyes didn't soften though. "How do I contact you to let you know when we move in?"

He stood, towering over her and was mildly surprised when she didn't flinch or back down. "I'll be at the bluffs overlooking the Red Sea for three days. I go there often after regenerating to pray and purify myself. Ye'll find me there," he flicked his hand at her, a dismissal. "Now go."

She looked at him. She hated having to bring him into this, but she knew that they would need whatever aid that he would bring, just as he had against _Das Millennium _three years ago.

"Don't think that I'll forget Gareth, Marsten, Reeks, Orlando, Gates, Niles, Nicks, or the others you've killed," she said, stepping up and shoving her pistol against his jaw. "When this is over, I won't hold any compunction about shooting you or trying to kill you."

"Nor I," he said coldly. "Ye."

"As touching as this is," Buffy interrupted. "But I think we need to get going before the party of four becomes a party of two and the ladies are stuck with the bill."

Seras glared at Anderson for a few moments more, then walked away, her back to the priest. She knew that at any moment he could conjure one of those blades and strike her down, but she was determined to show some trust.

Plus, if he threw it, she was mad enough to dodge it and rip him apart bare handed. And revel in his screams as she did it.

It seems that the monster in her was growing. Now to insure that she didn't become a monster.

"Let's get Angel and Spike and get the hell out of here," she said, shoving her Socom into its pocket and pulling out the Gravedigger. She stepped out of the building and shot the blade of a sword that was sailing in towards Spike's neck, shattering the weapon. She fired four more times, similarly disarming the other men. "Time to go, gentlemen," she said. Angel and Spike headed up the hill with Buffy as she brought up the rear, her pistol trained on the men.

As she took them one at a time back to LA, she had to wonder at this new level of discipline she had showed. Maybe she was coming into her full inheritance as one of Alucard's fledglings.

She stepped out of the shadows, her hand clamped on Buffy's arm and looked around. It was the boardroom where she had drafted the three people.

"Ooorrfff," said Buffy, falling to her knees by a trashcan.

"I told you not to get the nachos at the game, pet." said Spike as she vomited into the small container. "They're never done enough."

* * *

Erik Valar stood calmly as the men reported their findings. Integra Hellsing had slipped from her cell, and two guards had been found dead so far, one in the cell, the other at the door leading to the exit lifts. The guard that had survived reported seeing a massive monster rip into his partner. That could only be Alucard.

He trembled in rage at the incompetence of these fools. He had four days until the ritual had to be started, and five until it had to be completed if he was to bring the Devil's Hand into his body. He would not let these bumbling idiots foul up his plans. He reached out and grabbed the man that was apologizing and twisted his head around 180 degrees and then wrenched it off, letting his body drop to the stone floors.

"Find them!" he yelled at the remaining underlings. As they scrabbled out of the room, he shouted out again. "And clean this up, he's getting blood all over the stonework!"

He could have lapped up the blood, but it smelled tainted. He did have standards, after all.

He stalked up to his throne and sat there, contemplating the head in his hands. "Alas, poor Yorick," he said to himself. "I knew him, Horatio." He hurled the head down to the body on the floor and stared into space.

For this, Integral Fairbrook Wingates Hellsing would die a most painful death, while Alucard looked on.

He would not be made a fool in his own domain.  
_

* * *

_

_Peking, China, 1901. He sat in a simple pair of togs and had a Cheongsam on over it. He sat in a room filled with incense. A small Chinese man sat across from him, mirroring his lotus position. "How do I achieve peace in my heart?" he asked in Chinese._

_The man smiled a gentle smile, a picked up the small teacup beside him and drank from it. "Anger is the fire in one's mind that burns away all of one's virtuous deeds. It must, therefore," he turned his brown eyes on Hunter. "Be entirely surrendered. You must give up your anger, your hate, your rage."_

_Hunter looked down at his lap in acknowledgement. He felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked up, seeing that Master Kim had stood and strode over to him. "And in time, you must give up your guilt, your shame, and your self doubt. Only then," he said, striding away. "Will you be at peace with yourself."_

_Hunter sat there, contemplating what he had been told. It was sensible, by the teachings that he had learned at the temple. But Master Kim had no knowledge of the deeds he had done in the past, the deeds that he had witnessed, the people he had failed to help._

_Maybe that was the lesson, the message. That he can't help everyone, that he should accept that he couldn't save all the people he set out to help. It was a bitter pill, to be sure, but as he meditated over it, it seemed to soothe some of his doubts._

_He was then standing in a large room, dug out of some subterranean cavern. Alucard and Integra were chained to the walls, both insensate. There were sounds of fighting, and he saw Seras, Amon, and Walter battling against a series of men and ghouls. Robin stood at a large arch, keeping reinforcements at bay with a wall of flame. The mad paladin was in the center of the room, facing a man in a dark suit, his long hair tied back with a braided black cord. Suddenly, the priest crumpled, and the man grabbed him by the back of the head and flung him away. Hunter's eyes locked with that of the man, and though he had never seen him before, he knew who it was._

_"Father," he said calmly._

_"Hello, Robin. It's been a long time."_

_"I no longer go by that name. Robin Valar died with his sister that night in England."_

_His father shrugged. "A shame, then. He had such potential for greatness."_

_"For evil, you mean."_

_"What is evil, son?" They circled warily. "A perceived wrongdoing against a person or people. A misguided idea of the proper way to behave, a _human_ concept. We," he said, waving his hand back and forth, indicating him and Hunter. "We are above such concepts. We bow to no one."_

_"You're wrong, Father."_

_"Oh, would you care to enlighten me, young one?"_

_"I may bow to no one," he said, stepping close to his father. He felt his fangs growing, his eyes shifting, nails growing. "But I give my service to a cause that you will never understand."_

_Erik Valar sneered. "And what would that be? Truth? Justice? Some concept you learned hiding in the Orient?"_

_"No," he said, sliding into an attack stance. "Life, and the defense of it. For every life I defend, I am enriched in some way. I am more of a man than you, with all your centuries could hope to be."_

_He struck, fists blurring, striking the man that could only lightly be called his father._

_His fist struck, the blow jarring up his arm._

_And waking.

* * *

_

Robin had just dipped the towel in the washbasin and was just touching it to Hunter's forehead when his eyes snapped open and he sat up like a man waking from a nightmare. He looked around and took in his surroundings. His eyes narrowed.

"Where are Seras and Alucard?" he asked.

Amon slid forward. "Alucard went to get Integra a few hours ago. We think he may have gotten captured or trapped by the sun. Seras left to find out what she could on the Devil's Hand and to get some help."

Walter held out a large glass of water which Hunter downed greedily. "Walter, get my bag, please."

He took his bag from the butler and rummaged through it for a second. Robin tried to push him back into the couch but he resisted. He pulled out a pendant on a chain. It was three interlocked ovals, a triquertra. It had been his sister's. He hadn't worn it since leaving Norman in the trenches. If anything, the hallucinations had shown him that life followed a set of rules all it's own. It reminded him of why he fought this fight.

Seras phased back into the room. "I got us some backup," she began, then saw Hunter sitting up, staring at the pendant. "James," she said, rushing forward and hugging him. "When did he wake up?" she asked.

"Just now," Robin said, sliding the basin and towel out of the way so that Seras could settle comfortably on the couch.

"What's that?" Seras asked, looking at the pendant.

"It was my sisters. I took it when I left. I've never been without it, though at times I haven't felt worthy of wearing it. It symbolizes the trinity of things. Birth, Life, and Death. Father, Son, Holy Ghost. Life, Death, and Ressurection. What have you." He slipped it around his neck, standing. He looked at the people assembled.

"It's begun," he said.

* * *

He stood on the roof of the Hellsing manor later that morning. His jacket flapped slightly in the breeze as he crouched down on one of the parapet-like outcroppings. He gazed out at the Thames and reflected back on the dreams.

"Father," he said. "I'm coming to get what's mine."

As the sun rose, he stepped down and phased back into the manor. He looked for Seras Victoria, hoping to catch her before she turned in for the day. She sat on the edge of her bed, pulling off her boots. She looked up as he walked in. "You asked to see me?" he said.

"Will you really have to fight your father?" she asked, not sure if she wanted to know the answer.

He nodded. "It's the way of what I am."

"And if you win, you get the chance to be human again? Normal?"

"Yes."

"Will you do it?" she asked, her voice very quiet.

He looked around her room. She had put landscape paintings in the alcoves where windows had been. A large mirror stood in one corner, an oak chest of drawers next to an old couch. His eyes scanned the books on her shelf. He noted a volume of Frost on the second shelf.

"And I, I took the road less travelled by," he said quietly. "And that has made all the difference."

He turned back to her. "I don't know. I haven't been human for well nigh six hundred years now. I'm not sure how well I would take to it."

He had heard the quiet question in her question, sensed the trepidation with which she asked it. She had left off 'and leave us, leave me?"

He turned to her, and knelt in front of her, taking her hands in his, looking in her eyes. "I can promise you this much. I am walking out of this alive and under my own power. Count on it."

Moved by some instinct, he pulled off his sister's pendant and set it in her lap. She looked at it in confusion.

"I won't leave that behind." he said. "You hold on to that, and I'll come back for it."

She ran her fingers along the interlaced lines of the Celtic symbol. She looked up to ask him a question.

He was already gone, the door clicking shut behind him.

She fell back on her bed, closing the lid. As she tried to drift off to sleep, she reflected on how things had changed since he had come into her life. Alucard and Integra had seemed more at ease, and she had doubts put to rest, allowing her to grow in her abilities.

As she dropped into dreams, she thought idly _I hope he stays. He would keep things interesting around here. It's been dull since Pip died. And other things,_

But she was asleep before she could ponder what those other things were.

* * *

A/N: Anyone really good at art? I got an urge to see some of these scenes drawn out but I can't do anything more than stick figures...


	8. The Calm Before the Storm

A/N: Ok, I confess that this one is a bit campy, but I was in the mood to be campy. I wanted to lighten the mood just a touch, try some light romance. I don't know if it is as good as watching Anderson slicing a person to pieces, but I want to be well rounded.

Yada yada, disclaimer, yada yada yada, Hellsing, WHR, yada yada.

* * *

Integra awoke lying on the cold metal of the air duct. She looked around, wondering where she was for a moment. Then it all came back to her: the abduction, the escape.

And the kiss, the blending of blood. She sat for a moment, and found that even without her glasses she could see well enough, though the colours were a bit muted, edges blurred. She heard the slight rasp of cloth on metal, and Alucard came around the corner. He saw her and hung his head.

"Forgive me, I had to check on our entry point. I thought I had heard the grate open."

She shook her head, dismissing the apology. "It's alright; you did what you thought prudent at the moment." She stretched, feeling an odd strength in her muscles and a strange additional awareness to her world. "Alucard," she said.

"The effects will wear off in another hour." He looked at her, his usual smirk on his face. "It is exhilarating, isn't it?"

She nodded. Was this what Seras had felt when she awoke?

_And every waking moment, my Master. It is the gift we are bestowed in exchange for taking on the curse._

She looked at him, hearing the undercurrent of sorrow in his voice. _What is it?_

He looked at her, and she could see that he was debating on what to tell her. _It is, _he started, then broke off for a moment, considering.

She slid forward and took his hand in hers, feeling the power under the material of his gloves. She gave it a light squeeze. _After all that we've been through, is there so little that you can tell me that I would find odd? _she asked.

He smiled. _It is an after effect of a long life, _he said. _When one lives as long as I have, you have watched countless generations slip into old age, friends and enemies alike falling to the grip of Death. One begins to shield himself against possible pain that it brings._

She realized what he was saying. _In all those years, you have held yourself aloof, apart from the others. To protect yourself._

He nodded. "And such protection tends to lead towards certain feelings that are best left buried."

She looked at him. "You're lonely," she said.

He smirked. "I am hardly ever alone," he said. After all, with the Police Girl and my work with Hellsing, but one does tend to miss the more esoteric aspects of life."

She suddenly understood his position, and understood more fully the aspects of the curse he was under. And why he chose to work for her organization. She had long known that while his will may be linked to hers, she no more controlled him that she would control a thunderstorm. He chose to work for her, her family, because it would provide a measure of stability, of constancy.

And she realized the depth of that loyalty when she thought about the twenty years he spent in the dungeon. Twenty years without blood, without human contact. Because he knew what was required of him.

She pulled him in and held him much as she had been held when she was younger.

"We will get out of this," she said softly. "And there are a good number of years left on my life. Plenty of time to live."

* * *

Hunter walked across the garden, taking in the smells of the cherry blossoms and the mint, the various smells of the British spring. He was thinking back across the events of the last several days. As usual, when mixing with Alucard and Walter, life got to be hectic.

And unusually thought provoking. His conversation with Seras wouldn't leave his mind. She was very fond of him, he could sense that much, and he certainly felt something in return. But she worried about what would happen after this mission would end. He knew, from a lunchtime talk with Walter and the talk they had at the club, that she had been rather fond of a young mercenary named Pip. But he had died in a FREAK raid some months back, saving her from an attack, he found out from Walter. She said that he had just left abruptly.

_Poor girl, she doesn't have it easy at all. _He stopped to light a cigar and gaze out across a small reflecting pool. _And now she's afraid to get close to anyone else in case they 'leave' as well._

He heard the quiet swish-brush of skirts behind him and turned to find Robin coming up. She smiled softly at him, "Am I disturbing you?"

"Not at all," he said, offering her his arm out of gentlemanly courtesy. She took it lightly and they walked about the reflecting pool. "What can I do for you, Lady Sena?"

"I wanted to ask what you meant earlier." She looked out at the various flowers and trees. "You said 'it's begun' when you woke up, but what is it? What's begun?"

He looked down at her. "Robin, you're what, seventeen?"

She smiled softly. "Barely. Another three months."

He echoed her smile. "And so mature for the age. And yet, despite your maturity, your experience with the STN-J, you knowledge of the Craft, and the months on the run with Amon, you have such little knowledge of depravity." He walked on in silence for a few moments. "Especially the depravity that my father is capable of."

She let it roll around in her mind for a few minutes, the first lap around the pool ending. A small bird flitted to the ground in front of them, pecking the ground and taking off with a small twig. "I suppose," she said. "But it doesn't answer my question."

Hunter laughed. "Such tenacity. Alright then," he looked at her with a serious face. "You were raised in a monastery, correct?"

"Yes,"

"And I assume you learned the Scriptures while there, right?"

"Of course,"

"So you've heard of the Last Battle."

"Anyone who reads the Bible has."

Hunter looked sidelong at her. "So what would you say if I told you that we were headed for the last battle now?"

She gasped.

"Not _The _last battle, mind you. But even as Good and Evil will come to face each other in the end, good and evil will face each other within families, within times. The last battle between the monster that is my father and the humble, oft battered fighter that is myself." He stared at a rose bush beginning to bud. "It is the only way to keep him from carrying out whatever foul scheme he has set up."

She nodded. "So what are you and Seras going to do when it is all over?"

He looked at her. "I thought you were a firestarter," he said. "Not a telepath."

She gave another of her soft smiles. "Anyone with eyes can see the way she looks at you. But you, you hide things so well behind that mask of genteel civility and sarcasm that it is difficult to tell what you are thinking."

He shrugged. "It's a habit. You may not know this now, but when you live a while and people start dying around you, you tend to close yourself off to keep from getting hurt. You can ask Amon about this as well." He gave her a smile that a wolf might give a lamb. "What are you and Amon going to do when this is over?"

"I asked you first," she said.

"Mine for yours?" he asked. She nodded.

"I don't know. I haven't really sat down and thought about what it is I feel. There is something there, certainly, but what it is," he shrugged again. He dropped the stub of his cigar to the ground and stepped on it to put it out. He then picked it up and pulled apart the twisted leaves and scattered them about a bed of mulch. "I was out here thinking about that, as a matter of fact. I was thinking about having a bit of dinner with her tonight before we set out a battle plan."

She nodded. "I would leave the battle plan out of it for now," she said. "She may be a vampire and a commander in a military group, but she _is _a woman. All work and no play will make Jill a dull girl," she paraphrased.

He looked down at the deceptively mature woman on his arm. "And what about you? You promised to spill your story, miss witch."

She glanced back at the manor. "Amon and I have grown close. It isn't a relationship in the sense that we've declared our feelings for each other, but we've acknowledged that they exist. At times, I wish that he would come out and say what he feels, but with Amon,"

"It's like hoping that Atlantis would rise from the bottom of the ocean floor." Hunter laughed. "You are lucky to have a good man like that, Robin. He'll hang the moon and stars for you."

She smiled. "I know, but every woman hopes for romance every now and again. But when you're on the run, it's a luxury that you give up."

She loosed her arm from his. She fixed him with a look, penetrating but soft at the same time. "Don't let your past be your future. Tomorrow hopes that we learned something from yesterday."

He frowned for a second. "Confucius?" he said.

"John Wayne."

He looked at her in mock horror. "Don't tell me that he made you watch those movies. You have to run, child, run before it's too late."

They both shared a laugh about that. Hunter brushed the bit of ash off the front of his shirt and looked at the house. "I guess I'll go and get to know our resident vampress," he said.

* * *

Walter was tidying about Integra's office when there was a slight grating sound. He turned and saw Alucard and Integra sliding into being behind him. She was dirty, her suit soiled and torn, cobwebs in her hair, but she looked hale and hearty.

"Sir Integra!" he said, going to her to greet her. "Welcome back. We have been most worried about the both of you."

"Where is Hunter?" she asked. "His father is the one behind all this."

"Ah, yes. We know. He was assaulted himself not too long ago and was rendered comatose for several hours. He recently recovered and has been debating what to do." He looked at Alucard. "I would have thought that Lord Alucard would have informed you as to this."

Alucard looked at him. "We were somewhat busy escaping capture and waiting on the sun, Walter. And we found," he glanced down at Integra, and Walter noticed for the first time that they had their hands linked. "Other things to talk about."

The old man smiled. "Of course. I'll take my leave then and prepare something to eat. I expect you are both rather famished. An hour?" he asked, looking at Integra.

She looked down at her clothes and the ends of her hair. "And a half. I want to take a long hot shower and rid myself of this filth first."

"Of course, Sir Integra." He left, going to fix a pot of tea and some sandwiches. As he descended the stairs to the kitchen, he smiled. It was about time those two confessed their feelings towards each other.

* * *

There was a quiet tap at her door. Seras turned, surprised. "Come in," she said.

Hunter poked his head in through the door. "Am I disturbing you?" he asked.

"Not at all," she said, gesturing towards the chairs on either side of the table in the center of her room. "Do come in."

He sat in the chair, and noticed the pendant he had given her the night before was draped around her neck, glinting slightly in the light. "Alucard and Sir Integra are back," he said. "I just came back from speaking with Alucard about the defenses they have in place."

"How strong is it defended?" she asked.

"Not too terribly strong," he said. "But that wasn't what I came down to see you about."

Seras cocked her head and her eyebrows a bit. "What then?" she asked.

He reached out and took her hand in one of his. He reflected on the calluses on the ends of her fingers and the back of her palm. _Bracing against the kick of the cannon, _he thought automatically.

"Seras," he paused. He was usually good with words. But this wasn't just words, this was something a bit more. "I, um,"

She was around the table, leaning over him, her lips pressed against his, silencing them as she wrapped her arms around his neck and settled her hip against the table top.

_Heh, I guess you took the words right out of my mouth, Police Girl, _he said.

_Shut up, Thanatos. Just shut up._

_Yes, ma'am, _he said, returning the kiss.

* * *

"You think he took your advice?" Amon asked, playing with a ringlet of her hair that had come loose from the ribbon she wore it in.

Robin looked up from the comfortable place she had nestled against. They were both stretched out on the bed in Amon's room, letting Seras have some privacy and spending some quiet time alone.

"What do you think?" she asked, setting her head against his chest again. "I told him the same thing I told you a week into our running."

Amon kissed the top of her head. "You didn't have to set _his_ jacket on fire, did you?"

"No, he is a bit more open minded than you were, Sempai. Now hush," she said, closing her eyes. "I just want to enjoy the quiet for a while."

* * *

Walter walked into the room with a tray and nearly dropped it. Standing against the window overlooking the grounds was Sir Integra, neatly cleaned and groomed.

Or rather, Lady Integra stood against the window. She was clothed in a long skirt in a muted olive and a blouse of off white. Her hair was worked into a loose tail. When she turned, her customary ascot and pin were in place, as was the fire in her eyes. But even her face seemed to be tempered, softer.

"I must say, Lady Integra," he said, using the title that he had not for nearly a decade. "That whatever transpired between you and Lord Alucard must have been an experience."

She smiled at him, taking the teacup from him as he handed it to her. "I, understand him a bit better now, Walter. Understand why he is the way he is." She looked out at the gardens again. "And for some reason I can't explain, I feel more at ease with myself by admitting to myself what I felt."

Walter set the small plate of sandwiches on her desk. "I must say, sometimes confessing to yourself can be one of the most beneficial healing works. You always did take things a bit seriously. I know that you had to do it at the start, but I had always wished that you would return to a more relaxed attitude at one point."

She eyed him over the teacup. "You could have told me this yourself, Walter."

He shrugged. "I didn't feel like it was my place to say. You had your reasons for working the way you did. Who am I to say that those methods weren't the correct way?"

She set the teacup down and picked up one of the sandwiches, chewing for a moment. "I suppose you are right. I might not have seen what you were saying in any case. But as for this," she said, gesturing at her attire. "This is merely for today. I decided to follow everyone else's example and take a day to recover, to leave myself behind for a while. All work and no play,"

"Makes for a dull Miss Hellsing," purred Alucard as he phased into the room.

She whirled on him. "I thought I had made it clear to you as to the proper methods of entering my office," she said with the iron in her voice that had made her such a feared enemy.

He spread his gloved hands. "I do apologize, Master. Old habits die hard."

Walter cleared his throat. "I do believe I'll take my leave. Lord Alucard," he said as he left.

Integra looked at the vampire that settled into the chair across her desk from her. "I had truly hoped that we would not have this discussion again," she said, eyes hard.

Alucard raised a hand in a placating gesture. "Please, do forgive me. I merely wanted to continue our rudely interrupted conversation from the other night." He took in her attire. "You look rather like that hot tempered little girl that was chased by her uncle into my cell," he said, his voice in the earnest tones that he held in the air duct.

She brushed a hand against the pleats in her skirt, hoping that her hair would hide the slight flush that had come to her skin. "It's one of the few skirts I own. Did you mean what you said earlier?"

"Which part?" he asked. "I said quite a few things."

"About not wanting to get close out of fear. I thought there was little that you were afraid of."

He nodded, the dark silk of his suit contrasting his pale skin. "And indeed, a pain that I cannot heal and cannot escape is something that I fear. Any reasoning creature would fear it. Death in battle, death of a comrade, those are dangers a warrior faces in war. But the death of a part of him he never even knew he had, that is something that even I have no wish to experience."

She looked at him. He was still cocky, still the upstart vampire that had caused headaches in the past, but now that she had cracked into his shell, she saw the softer side that he had tried to bury beneath the veneer of an insane, cackling monster.

"I have to ask," she said, in a voice that seemed out of place against the memories Alucard had of her, a voice that seemed more suited to a fourteen year old girl. "If you were human, what would you do?"

He eyed her closely. "I've never considered the question," he said truthfully.

She came and sat on the arm of his chair, leaning her head against his. "I have," she said. "I think that if it weren't for the vampire/Hellsing standpoints,"

"We would have done this years ago?"

She smiled. _Indeed._

_I agree, _he said, drawing her into his lap. _You told me the other night that you didn't want to loose me. You spoke from a standpoint of a friend and commander. I now speak from a place closer than either. Were I to loose you, it would be my end._

She was shocked. "Even if it meant you were free?"

He looked at her, hand cradling her face. "Because it would mean that I failed in my duties. And I am a sore looser." He gave her a wide smile. "As some of our enemies have discovered."

She leaned back against his shoulder. "Do you think that they will attack tonight?" she asked, all business, wanting his opinion.

"No," he looked out at the low sitting moon, just now rising. "I think this is the calm before the storm. In either case, it is not our fight," he said, looking down at the floor. "It is Hunter's. He is the one that will face Valar, and is the only one Valar will fight now."

"The rest of us are just minor players now."

* * *

Hunter looked up at Seras. She was grinning from ear to ear, enjoying herself tremendously. He was glad, so was he.

_At least, as much as you can when your arm is being twisted up behind your back_, he reflected.

He tried to get some leverage against her, but she stayed close enough to him that all he managed to do was get himself trapped against the wall. With his cheek on the cold stones, he mumbled out "Give up yet?"

She giggled. "No, I think I can take a bit more." She kicked one of his feet, setting them a little further apart in a police frisk position. "Your own fault for tickling me," she said.

"I can get out of this anytime I want, you know," he said, face still pressed against the wall.

"Right," she said.

She was suddenly leaning against the wall, her hand held out. Before she could regain her balance, she was grabbed from behind and picked up. Hands dug into her lower ribs, fingers seeking out those spots they had found by mistake only minutes before.

She shrieked, trying to free herself, but she couldn't concentrate enough to turn into a mist like he had. She could barely breathe through the laughter. She kicked against the wall, sending them both back. The back of his legs hit the low edge of her bed while her head cracked against the lid. They fell in, Seras landing on the control switch, shutting the lid.

"As dear as this is," he said, somewhat muffled. "Could you please remove your boot from my nose?"

"Sorry," she said, shifting about as best she could in the cramped confines of the coffin. The control pad had slid down under the mattress, and she groped around for it. A pair of hands took her by the waist and she automatically jumped, trying to get away from the grip.

_Jumpy? _

_Just a touch, _she thought. _But you can hardly blame me, you know._

He chuckled. _True, but I'm going to behave this time. Scout's honor._

Seras let him pull her in to his side, laying her head on his chest and throwing an arm across his body. She started to close her eyes when a thought started knocking on her mental door.

_Wait a minute..._

_Too late, _he thought, tickling her again.

As she tried to get free from his grip, she made a mental note not to let scouts honor work for someone who had grown up hundreds of years before the Boy Scouts had even existed. _Fiend, _she thought.

_Ah, who are you fooling? _he thought, stopping and rolling onto his side, facing her. Though the coffin was pitch black, they could see each other perfectly well, either by mental images or the heat signatures they gave off. _There isn't anything you can do about it and you have to admit, this is the most fun you've had in a while._

She jabbed him hard in the stomach, trying to sound more upset than she really was. _I hardly call being tickled till you can't breathe fun._

_I agree. Truce?_

_I don't trust you, _she thought.

_Promise, this time. Cross my heart. _He leaned forward and pecked her on the nose. _You can shoot me if I tickle you this time. _He leaned back, pulling his hands up to where she could see them.

_Come back here, _she thought, grabbing his collar. She kissed him again, and then just wrapped her arms around him, settling in to enjoy the quiet moment, so rare in her line of work.

He twitched as her hand slid across his stomach. _Oh, ticklish as well, are we?_

_No, not at all. You just hit a sore...Ah!_

Turnabout is fair play, after all. However, five minutes later, after several more attacks and retaliations, they were just laying there, holding each other, too tired to do anything more than just lay there. She couldn't remember the last time she had enjoyed her self this much.

_Well, at least since Pip, _she thought.

_Tell me about him. _Hunter thought at her.

_Not much to tell. He was a bit annoying, always picking on me, but for some reason,_

_It didn't truly bother you?_

_Stay out of my story, you._

His chuckle filled her ears.

* * *

(Soft Piano music)  
_Female voice:  
_Sometimes I feel so all alone, Finding myself callin' your name  
_Male voice:  
_When we're apart, so far away Hopin' it's me that you're thinkin' of

_Author: _Hold it, wrong ending theme. (pulls CD from player, searches about for one and places it in.)

_Female voice:  
_Ikutsu  
namida o nagashitara.  
Every heart,  
sunao ni nareru darou.  
Dare ni

_Author: _hmm...(hits skip button.) _Stargate SG-1 theme_ Damn it, I know it's on this one, (hits button again.) _Drum Fill_ There we go.

_Male voice:  
_I never really feel quite right,  
I don't know why, all I know is there's something wrong.  
Every time I look at you, you seem so alive.  
Tell me how do you do it,  
walk me through it,  
I'm following every footstep.  
Baby on your own you take a cautious step,  
Do you wanna give it up?  
But all I want is for you to SHINE,  
Shine down on me.  
Shine on this life that's burning out.  
SHINE,  
Shine down on me, Just show me something.  
Shine on this life that's burning out.  
Don't you know I want you to SHINE,  
SHINE down on me,  
Shine on this life that's burning out.

**Preview**

_Seras: _In our next chapter...

_Vash: _Do we come back in?

_Seras: _No, not yet. In our next chapter...

_Brandon Heat: _What about me?

_Nick Knight: _Do I show up at all?

_Seras: _Not yet! I'm trying to do the preview here, so hush. In our next...

_Piper Halliwell: _How about us?

_Seras: _Who are you people?

_Knives: _I appear, do I not?

_Seras: _Why do I even bother?

_Vash: _Hey, Knives! We've been looking for you!

_Knives: _Oh brother. Blonde haired spider, please bite this annoying pest.

_Seras: _Oh, I give up.

**Chapter 9: The Heart of the Matter**


	9. The Heart of the Matter

A/N: A bit more Seras development as she struggles to come to grips with a dark memory stirred up by her growing bond with Hunter, a glimpse at Hunter's past, and the fate of the Millennium group.

Disclaimer: You know, by now you've read enough of these that I won't put any more up.

* * *

She stared at the pendant she had draped over her neck. A gesture so simple, and yet was bringing back memories that she didn't know she wanted to remember. There were just painful. 

He had left a few minutes ago to grab some food and a pair of bloodpacks. She knew that he would be back soon, but she wondered if she wanted him to. She didn't want to hurt him, didn't want to get hurt herself. It seemed like everyone she interacted with on that level got hurt.

Harry Anders, Helena, and Pip. She had been close to all of them outside of the daily work they did. Now none of them remained, all of them were dead. She heard the scuffle of a small tray against the stone of the corridor, and knew that he was juggling things in his hands so that he could open the door. She phased out of her room before he came in.

She had to go and think for a few minutes. She knew that she had to tell him eventually, but how could she tell him?

How could she admit to something that horrible?

* * *

Hunter sat on the edge of the table, wondering why she had left. They had been enjoying the carefree time up to the point where he had decided to get something to eat. He knew that she had been in here as he tried to get the door open. He had sensed the discomfiture, the indecision, the slight tang of fear. He decided to let her be for a short while. When she figured out whatever it was that was bothering her, she'd find him. 

He picked up one of the two sandwiches he had brought with him, taking a large bite out of it. Amazing how hungry you would get being unconscious for a day. Plus, it was first class roast beef. You don't turn things like that down.

As he ate, he wondered just what it was that had caused Seras' mood to flip-flop so abruptly.

* * *

Alucard looked down at the sleeping form in his arms. He was amazed at just how much things had changed between them. She was still the iron-willed commander of Hellsing, completely capable of blowing a FREAKS' head off without a second thought. 

But there was something else there now, something softer, something that hadn't been there since she had taken over the organization those years ago. As she shifted slightly in her sleep, he smiled at the look on her face. He knew it was on his as well.

Part of him rebelled at these feelings. He enjoyed being a monster. It was fun, enjoyable on so many levels that it wasn't even a joke. He enjoyed the looks of fear that some people cast on him as he appeared in their midst. A part of him even enjoyed the cruelty he had inflicted or hinted at inflicting on the Police Girl when she was still a servant vampire.

But he also wanted to be a part of life again. He dealt with life and death so often that he felt as though he was an orphan looking in a window on a cold winter night at a table laden with food. Just some small bit of humanity for the equally small bit of humanity that still sparked inside him.

He felt the light traces of Integra's breath against his chest as she breathed in and out. He smiled at the memories of the 'quiet time' they had spent together. Oh, it hadn't gone as far as he would have liked, but he had to admit that she had an appetite that would be fun exploring. He reached over to the night table and grabbed the small glass that still held a small swallow of brandy in it. They had talked for hours, an almost adult version of 'Truth or Dare' emerging as the night wore on.

The addition of alcohol might not have been the smartest idea, in retrospect. She had expressed things that would have made her blush to think about had she been completely sober. He tossed back the last swallow of brandy, feeling the slight trail of fire as it went down his throat. Not as fulfilling as blood, but it had its virtues.

He slid a bit further down under the blanket, pulling Integra closer. He didn't think that this would have gone as well as it did, but letting her into some of the deeper secrets of his life had eased his worries.

Maybe that was how Hunter had dealt with so many of the things he had done in the past. He had spent six years in the Orient, seeking peace. He knew that his past wasn't anywhere near as virtuous as his present was, but he had come to terms with it.

Alucard smiled. Sharing the burden with Integra meant that he had to help share her burdens as well. But, he thought as he shut his eyes, that didn't seem like all that bad of a prospect. He kissed her on the forehead as he dropped off to sleep as well.

* * *

The bullets slammed into the target, the paper form bursting apart. Seras fired several more times, the target falling from the clip that held it up. She reeled it in and posted another target on the clip, sending it back out. 

She slid a new clip into her Socom and started firing again. The head and chest of the target blew out, scattering bits of paper across the floor. Her memory flooded back to the fore as they fluttered to the floor and she shut her eyes, trying to force the images out.

_"Please, don't ask me that,"_

_"Seras, you have to,"_

_"I can't! Don't you understand that?"_

_"Please!"_

She put her pistol down, tears squeezing out from her closed eyes. Damn it, why couldn't she keep the thoughts out? She opened her eyes, feeling the wet trails on her face. She put the Socom away and went to the weapons locker, pulling out the sniper rifle, one similar to the one she had used for so long when she first came into organization. She slid a clip in and scrolled the target out to five hundred meters. She set the rifle up and stared across the barrel, her eyes zooming in on the target. She fired, but missed. Another shot went wide, then the third hit it in the knee.

Then a large hole appeared in the chest area, but she hadn't fired. Turning, she saw Hunter standing behind her, lowering his gun. There was a look of concern in his eyes, of polite wonder.

"If that had been a ghoul, it would have gotten whatever it was going for," he said. "You're too good of a shot to miss like that, Seras. What's bothering you?"

"Nothing," she said, then remembered the trails of tears on her cheeks. Drat, he had to know what they meant.

_Seras, _he thought at her.

She phased out, the stock of the rifle clicking on the table. Hunter sighed, cleaned up the area, policing the weapon, and wondered again what was bothering her. He glanced at the target she had set up out in the range, and whipped his other pistol out, firing both as fast as he could pull the triggers. The target ripped free of the clip, then shredded as bullets continued to fly through it as it floated to the ground, winding up as no more than confetti.

He tucked his guns away and leaned back against the partition. Something was most certainly wrong.

But how do you get a recalcitrant vampress to talk to you? He sighed and headed back to the lifts. He had found a bottle of Merlot in the wine cabinet in the kitchen. He hoped that it wasn't an old vintage. He would likely wind up using most of it.

* * *

_The warehouse was crumbling around them, the pale coloured walls cracking as the weight of the floors above them pressed down. Seras felt a shove between her shoulder blades, causing her to fly forward. She looked back, and saw the beam fall and glance against Pip's back as he ducked forward as well. She rushed to him, helping him up. He leaned against her for several steps, then they reached the main door and rushed out. The rest of their team was battling a group of ghouls, outnumbered by a small margin. They had retreated to a small stanchion and were using it as cover. Seras started heading towards them, Gravedigger clearing its holster.

* * *

_

She knelt on damp grass in front of a low stone marker. The rain dripped all about her, soaking her to the bone, but she didn't care. It hid the tears on her face. She traced a finger along the words carved in the granite.

Pip Bernadette, KIA 5 February, 2004. God rest his soul. _In pace requiescat_.

"Damn it, why did you have to come back for me?" she whispered. "Why couldn't you have just gotten out? I would have been ok," her voice cracked. She leaned forward and rested her head on the tombstone. She would give anything to hear him call her that annoying nickname right now.

But at the same time, she felt a similar feeling for Hunter. She knew that it was irrational to think that just because they got close he would get hurt. But knowing something intellectually and knowing it in her heart was another thing entirely. The rain around her continued to fall, as did her tears.

Why couldn't she seal her feelings away?

* * *

"Where is Miss Victoria?" asked Walter. 

Hunter shrugged. "Your guess is likely as good as mine, old friend. Something is bothering her, and she's more or less avoided me since it hit her." He opened another cabinet door and looked inside. Plates and bowls. "Where are the wine glasses?" he asked the butler.

Walter pulled open a cabinet and pulled out two glasses. "I assume you are going to drink that bottle of Merlot in your hand until you either pass out or you have a revelation."

"Probably. Worked last time," he said.

"Last time you were trying to decide what to do since the war was over, not worrying about a friend of yours. In any case," he set both glasses down and sat at the table. "If Miss Victoria wishes to be alone, it is best that you are not, since your concern is apparent." He tapped the top of the glasses, pulling his monocle off and tucking it in a pocket.

Hunter popped the cork from the neck of the bottle and poured the dark wine into both glasses. He raised his and said the same toast they had fifty years ago. "Absent friends," he murmured.

"Absent friends," echoed Walter and sipped the wine in his glass. "Do you know what it is that set her off?"

Hunter shrugged. "I had asked her to tell me about Pip, then I went to get some food and blood. When I came back, she was in emotional turmoil but between the time I reached her door and the time I opened it, she apparated out somewhere. I ran into her at the firing range, and she was covered in tears and missing shots that she wouldn't have missed ordinarily."

"That hardly sounds like Miss Victoria," Walter said. "She was never this prone to tears, not even when Alucard was being his most brutal self to her."

"Agreed," Hunter sipped his wine, then swirled it around in his glass, watching it stick to the sides before flowing back into the bowl. The rich taste of the wine danced on his tongue, hints of toffee flowing up to his nose before he swallowed. "How did Pip die?" he asked after a moment.

Walter thought for a moment. Hunter knew it was more from wanting to organize his thoughts than trying to remember. While old, Walter was still as sharp as he had been as a teen.

"You know that they went in to investigate a warehouse that had supposedly housed a FREAK chip plant. It turned out that the plant had been moved several days before we moved in, and a large number of ghouls and FREAKS were there to ambush the team we sent in.

"Captain Bernadette had taken a contingent of the Wild Geese in with Commander Victoria's Hellsing group. He and Commander Victoria had gone in to place charges to destroy the factory, but when they got to the site, they realized the trap that had been laid out for them. Large charges had already been set. They rushed back as the building began to collapse. Outside, the rearguard was holding back a number of ghouls off."

Hunter frowned. "You said that there were FREAKS there as well. Where we they?"

"They had waited for some sign. As Pip and Miss Victoria started moving their people out, they attacked, separating Seras from the group. At the time, she had just developed her ability to phase in and out of places, but it was unknown to Pip. He charged back in to save her and killed by one of the FREAKS. She was very quiet for weeks afterward, saying little outside of orders to her troops."

"They were closer than I thought," murmured the Dhampir.

"They were closer than any of us thought," the butler said. "Pip seemed to take a large delight in taunting her, not to the degree that Alucard did, but he still annoyed her. He would call her Vicky for the mere fact that it ruffled her feathers. But she started striking back, taunting him as well." He sipped his wine. "I think he is largely responsible for the darling woman that we know. If he hadn't forced her out of her shell she wouldn't have had the strength of will to be the head of the troop contingent."

Hunter swirled the wine about and tossed it off. "How did he die, exactly? The precise terms, Walter."

"One of the FREAKS had appropriated one of the dead soldier's Socom pistols and was about to shoot Miss Victoria with it. Pip drew his fire as he charged in, taking the shots that were meant for Seras. He slipped to the ground and managed to stay conscious long enough to take two of the ghouls off her back. She saw him and slipped into that rage that vampires fall into. He was dead from the two shots before she could drag him out to the medic."

"Tragic," Hunter said. No wonder she was avoiding him. He had brought back those memories. He felt a pang of guilt, and poured another glass of wine.

"It wasn't your fault, old friend. You couldn't have known when you asked about him. It's best to just let her work it from her system. She's stronger than any of us give her credit for."

* * *

_"Seras!" _

_She turned, and saw Pip rushing back in, pistol already firing. _

_"No!" she cried, ducking beneath a ghoul and shooting it. "Get the rest of the team out! Go!"_

_He ducked around a ghoul, kicking its leg from the side. As the leg broke, he placed his gun to its head and fired. He continued rushing towards her, but a wall of ghouls separated them._

_"Pip, get out now! I'll be fine. GO!" She saw him fly back, a small mist of blood flowing from his abdomen. "PIP!"_

_She felt her control slip, and she lashed out against the monsters around her, cursing them all as she did.

* * *

_

Erik Valar stood in his chambers, sipping a glass of wine. Such a marvelous invention, so similar in texture and hue as blood, but yet so different in effects. It was a drink for the elite, the cultured.

And he was both, and more.

He considered his son, and the people he had allied with. They were weak, only using what abilities they had to fight against the swell of people different from them. _The old dogma of 'Good Versus Evil', _he thought with a sneer. He knew that there was no good, no evil. There was only power, those that had it, and those that wanted it.

He looked at the painting that hung over his bed, a replica of Van Gogh's 'Starry Night.' He found the textures to be exquisite; he could almost see the hints of insanity that had begun to creep into the painter's life near the end.

He sipped more of the wine. The Cabernet Sauvignon was at the peak of its flavor, having aged for close to a century in the bottle he had poured it from. He had an extensive cellar of wines. One of the perks of immortality.

His son still gnawed at his mind. He had no doubts that he would kill the boy if he had to, and he would have no trouble with it. A Dhampir would be no match against an Undead of his power. But why waste such a valuable asset, if he could appeal to the vampiric side of his wayward offspring? After all, he had been less that the white knight that the stories painted him as. He knew of the dark past, following the Inquisition, the true potential this half-breed had.

He looked at the painting, reflecting on the subtle meanings. Many saw it as a declaration of protection against the onslaught of nature.

He saw it as the inevitable destruction of the weak and cowardly. "Total destruction," he said, echoing the words his fledgling Incognito had said so many times. He had fouled up with that one, pressing against his mind until it had snapped. He had been too unstable to let loose, but his plans had required that the Hellsing Organization be distracted from _Das Millennium _while they continued the movement of their base.

He felt his lip curl at the incompetence of that dratted Nazi. The group had been crumpled by the hands of that bitch and her pet vampire and was in hiding now. He didn't care for the people that had gone into hiding; they were merely food, fodder for him and his kind.

But Rip, ah, how he missed her. She was violent, bloodthirsty to a degree he had not seen in ages. She made his blood boil like few so vampires could. According to his sources, she had been slain by that bastard of a vampire. He had nearly killed Schrödinger when he had brought the news. As it was, the werewolf was now taking over for the slain Major.

But the past was the past. All it did was serve to prove that humans were too weak and vapid to remain on the planet. He smiled as he thought about the rivers of blood that would flow when he came to power.

Yes, it would be as elegant as the wine in the glass he held.

* * *

She had no more tears to cry and she was wet and cold, but she couldn't leave the graveyard. She was looking for some sign, some hint that would show her what to do. The rain had stopped, but she hardly noticed. 

"I thought you might be here," a voice said quietly from behind her. She turned and found Walter standing there with Hunter in tow. The aging butler had a very large blanket and a towel in his hands. Walter stepped up and wrapped her in the blanket. "He's been heavily on you mind again," he said just as soft as he did so. He began to lead her back to the manor, but Hunter stayed behind, gazing at the grave marker. He hardly even looked at her. _How badly have I hurt him?_ she wondered.

He dwindled as Walter led her to the warmth of the house. He escorted her to her room. "I suggest that you get a warm shower and into dry clothes before you get sick." He turned to leave but Seras grabbed his arm.

"Walter, I need to ask you something." She swallowed, and then recounted the story that had been playing in her head all evening, but the man stopped her after a few minutes.

"I'm not the one you should be telling this to, Miss Victoria."

Her eyes widened. "I know, but I can't tell him that. What would he think? What would he say?"

Walter smiled that smile that had always put her at ease. "I expect he would understand better than you think, Seras. Go, he needs to hear it, he deserves that much."

He left, leaving her with her thoughts.

* * *

Hunter wandered around the cemetery devoted entirely to the fallen members of Hellsing. It was so much larger than when he had looked at it last, larger than he would have thought fifty years would have made it. But then, the last decade or so had been the most violent time in the organization, and the last four had been particularly devastating. 

He looked down at a marker, recognizing the name.

Peter Fargason, KIA 12 August, 2000. He gave his life for his country. He now defends Heaven.

Hunter remembered him as a bright, tow-headed young man, full of fire and skill in the armoured division of the British army, who had transferred into Hellsing with him. He rested his hand on the stone marker and closed his eyes. "What had you seen, old friend? What did you know that could have, should have been imparted?" Again, this war had taken someone that should have died in their bed, having passed their wisdom to the next generation. He walked to the next stone, gazing at the weathered faces, wondering about the lives they had lived. Had they left widows, children?

He came across another stone, this one slightly larger than the others. It sat at the end of the row, as if the master of this battalion.

Paul Richardson, KIA 7 December, 1956. Slain in defense of the Master of Hellsing. _In pace requiescat_.

He remembered Richardson well. He had been a contemptible bastard in his opinion, but had the ability to throw his men into whatever came at them and bring them back out again. Still though, Hunter had wished no ill will towards the man, and wondered if it was his inflexible hatred of the Undead that had killed him.

He gazed across the graveyard. The stones stood in silent rows, a testament to the brave men and women that had given their lives, their souls, their very beings, to the service of Hellsing. It had been a long war, and it wasn't over yet.

So many people, so willing to die for a cause they thought worthy. He marveled at the sheer thought. Life was the most precious thing that anyone carried; even the most destructive of evil respected their own lives. Only those that had crossed into insanity or fanaticism devalued lives.

He felt a pang of guilt, memories drifting up unbidden. A prefect in Madrid, a courtier in Helsinki, a bishop in Venice, the Don of a small township in Portugal. Their faces and their voices mocked him. He shut his eyes and shook his head. He had already come to grips with those deaths, those deeds.

But it didn't mean that he didn't wish they hadn't happened.

He caught the sound of a boot stepping into the damp soil behind him. He turned, seeing Seras there, still rather soaked and very uncomfortable. He sensed her turmoil, and her determination. She just looked at him, not directly, but at where he was. It was as though she was afraid to meet his eyes.

"I'm sorry that I brought up uncomfortable memories," he said into the silence.

She gave a weak smile and brought her gaze up a bit. He saw that she came to a stop by Pip's gravestone. "You didn't, those memories were actually some of the things I cherish." She hesitated, looking down at her feet. "It was the thoughts that came afterwards that upset me."

He walked towards her, letting her set the pace. He didn't push, just waited. He could tell that this was difficult for her.

"I was thinking about how it seems that everyone that got close to me died, were hurt in some terrible way. Gareth was killed just because he was in the way of Anderson that night, and Fargason," she trailed off. She looked at the marker in front of her. Tears had sprung to her eyes again.

"And then Pip. He was annoying, to be sure, but he made me feel like a normal person again. Like I belonged."

She swiped at her eyes. "Look at me, I'm crying like a rookie. I wouldn't be surprised if someone from the old D-11 team was looking down at me and shaking their heads, calling me Kitten all over again."

"Not all tears are evil, Seras," Hunter said softly. "They are the way the soul shows its existence. To have no tears for fallen comrades would be the sign that you have become the monster you so fear to be."

She looked at him. "How can you be so calm all the time? You've been attacked by your own father, had countless friends fall in combat and life. How is it you lock your feelings away? Please tell me," she whispered.

"I'm not so sure it's locking them away as much as letting them come when the time is right." He rubbed the back of his neck. "I had a friend in the first World War, a great jovial fellow called Norman. He had this incredible view on life. It was a finite game, and when his turn ended, he just hoped that his friends would remember him fondly. That's all he wanted."

He looked at the blonde. "Mourning fallen friends isn't an evil act, and especially those that have fallen recently. The wound is still fresh with you, and..."

"I killed him." she said quietly.

"No, you didn't. It may seem like that..."

"I _KILLED_ him," she said with certainty. She looked at him, her eyes haunted, puffy from tears. "I killed him, not some FREAK."

Hunter just stood there, not speaking as the words flowed from her.

* * *

_"You stupid sod, why did you come back? What were you thinking?" she asked as she bound the wound in his stomach. His braid was coated in mud and his own blood. He was pale and sweating heavily. _

_"Couldn't resist a damsel in distress, I guess," he said quietly. _

_"Don't try to talk, Pip. Just conserve your strength."_

_"I'm not going to make it, Vicky."_

_"Don't be ridiculous, you'll be fine as soon as we get you to the medic."_

_"You don't understand, I won't make it," he said with conviction. He raised one arm and pushed the tattered sleeve back with a trembling hand. Seras paled as she saw the large wound in his forearm. The marks of a ghoul bite. He'd been bitten by one of those ghouls he had fought off in his brazen rescue attempt._

_"Pip," she whispered. "No, Pip no."_

_His arm fell back to his side. "You've got to kill me, Vicky. I won't be one of those things."_

_"Please, don't ask me that,"_

_"Seras, you have to,"_

_"I can't! Don't you understand that?" Tears were flowing down her face now._

_"Please!" His breathing was becoming labored. "I don't want you to remember me as some shambling monster."_

_"Pip, I _can't_," she said, her voice wavering. "I can't shoot you."_

_"Vicky, if you care about me at all, you'll let me..." he convulsed in pain. She held him, her mind torn in two. He couldn't be asking her to do this._

_"Seras," he whispered. She started. He hardly ever called her by her right name._

_"Seras, I've never asked you for anything," he wheezed._

_"There was that twenty quid last week, you liar," she said, trying to prolong, to stall, to do anything but admit the reality in front of her._

_"Yeah, there was that," he laughed. "It's in my wallet, if you want it back. Course, you'll have to get it out yourself."_

_"You oaf," she said, stroking his face. "It's not enough you corrupt me off duty, but you try when you're dying too."_

_"Hey, gotta stay consistent." His face slackened somewhat. "You know what you have to do, Police Girl."_

_She nodded, her heart heavy, her throat closed. She leaned forward and kissed him, savouring his taste, the feel of his lips. She then stood, pulled her Socom, and looked at him. He nodded weakly, shutting his eyes._

_She closed her eyes, "I love you," she whispered. She pulled the trigger, shooting him cleanly in the chest.

* * *

_

She was crying again. She found her face was pressed into Hunter's chest, her tears staining his shirt. His arms were wrapped around her, comforting her.

"I shot him," she said again. "I shot the man that I loved. How horrible is that?"

"You did what he asked. If you had let him go, he would have become a ghoul, and that would have been more of a dishonour to his memory. You did the right thing, Seras."

She shoved away and punched him hard. He stumbled back several steps, falling backwards over Pip's tombstone. She leapt at him, punching him in the chest. "Don't you say that!" she shrieked. "He was a good man, he didn't deserve to die like that! He didn't, he shouldn't, he shouldn't have," her pummeling slacked off as she collapsed and just cried.

Hunter wrapped his arms around her. "No, he shouldn't have. But he gave the job to the one person he trusted. The one person that he knew would do it. It wasn't easy, I know. But you had to do it."

She looked at him, her eyes forlorn. "How do you know? Don't just spout trite phrases at me."

"I'm not," he said. "I told you about how I came into my powers. What I didn't tell you was that shortly after I had killed the werewolf, my sister woke up, transforming. The first transformation of a werewolf is slow, painful."

He looked at her. "She begged me to kill her. I couldn't, she had three children, one barely a year old. I remember thinking that we would find some way to reverse the effects, to cure her. There had to be some other way, I knew it. But she wouldn't relent, and then what little of my sister that was left faded, the beast taking over.

"If I had let her go, she would have wrought the same destruction on another family, and I couldn't allow that. It would have destroyed her more fully than any death would have. I killed my own sister, Seras. I do know how you feel, and it ate at me for years. I felt like I had failed her for the longest time. But in the end, I had saved her."

He sat up, gathering her into his arms. "The trick is knowing that, knowing that they are happy now, wherever they are. Heaven, the afterlife, whatever."

She looked at him. "You don't believe in Heaven?"

"It doesn't matter," he said softly. "It is a place for the dead, not the living. If and when I die, if I wind up there, I'll be happy. If not, then my opinion really doesn't matter. But the thing is, I'm here now, and I have a duty to everyone that cannot protect themselves, even unto my own death. So do you. So did Pip. So did everyone you see in this graveyard. Pip is in good company, and he died serving the helpless. That is a hero's death."

"I know, but sometimes, it just _hurts _when I think about it." She pressed hand to her heart, as though she could smother the pain. "I just wish it would go away," she whispered.

"Pain is the only way to tell that you're alive, Seras." He gazed back at the seemingly endless rows of markers. "I've been around the world several times, and I've yet to run into a theology that doesn't say that the afterlife is a place filled with bliss and happiness. The closest I've seen was the Norse Valhalla. But even then it was filled with glorious battles, the slain rising to join in the feasts at the end of the day."

He looked at her, forcing her to meet his gaze. "When you feel pain, you know you are alive. The way to survive it is to know that you are preventing it from reaching another person. I know you miss him. But is you can't see the good he did while he was alive and honour that memory, then you might as well crawl into that grave with him, because you've died as well."

He stood, still holding her in his arms. "Let's go in. It's getting cold out here. And you're all wet,"

She laughed weakly. He set her down, and they walked towards the manor.

"I hope Walter hasn't put that bottle of Merlot up yet. We've got family to celebrate and remember and sacrifices to honour."

As they walked on, he wrapped an arm across her shoulders. "And with your permission, old guilt to lay to rest."

* * *

He looked at her as she slumbered on the bed. She had been through so much for one so young. Too much, more than could ever have been expected of her. 

He felt a hand on his shoulder, and turned, seeing Amon and Robin there. The young witch's hair was let down, a golden flow to her waist, and they both looked in at the sleeping vampire.

"How is she doing?" she asked.

"Better," he said. "She still has a lot of guilt to work through."

"If anyone will be able to help her," Amon said. "It'll be you and Walter."

"Thanks." He glanced back at the form under the blanket. "Has anyone seen Alucard or Sir Integra since they got back?"

Robin smiled. "No, I expect that they spent most of the day by themselves."

Hunter smiled. "I wonder who bit who on that one," he said.

Amon leaned back against the wall. "I had another call from that Watcher, which is why we came to find you." He held out a faxed piece of paper. "What can you make of this?"

Hunter took it, recognizing the very old Celtic script that flowed across it. "It's the same as the parchment the summoning spell is on," he said, mentally translating. "But this is more of a historical document. It says," he looked up at the two people standing across from him.

"We've got a chance," he said, a smile spreading across his face.

* * *

A/N: I've been trying to meld the Manga into the storyline without horribly altering things I've already written. The hardest part was figuring out how to go about Pip's absence. I expect I'll likely get burned by those of you diehard PxS fans, but that's ok.

* * *

_Drum roll  
_I never really feel quite right and I don't know why  
All I know is that something's wrong  
Everytime I look at you you seem so alive

Tell me how do you do it,  
Walk me through it,  
I'm following every footstep

Maybe on your own you take a cautious step  
Do you want to give it up?

But all I want is for you to SHINE  
Shine down on me,  
Shine this life that's burning out.

I say a lot of things sometimes that don't come out right  
And I act like I don't know why  
I guess the reaction is all I was looking for, yeah

You looked through me,  
You really knew me,  
Like no one has ever looked before

Baby on your own you take a cautious step  
Do you want to give it up?

But all I want is for you to SHINE  
Shine down on me,  
Shine this life that's burning out.

I know, I know, girl you got something  
  
SHINE (shine it on to me)  
Shine down on me (I wanna feel it)  
Shine on this life that's burning out

_Thanks to all the readers and reviewers. We're coming to the end of the series arc, and it'll be a wrench when it's over._  
  
Baby on your own you take a cautious step  
Do you wanna give it up?  
  
But all I want is for you to SHINE  
Shine down on me (just show me something)  
Shine on this life that's burning out (you give me something that I never  
know)  
  
Shine (it gonna kill me if you give something away)  
Shine down on me(I wanna know what's going in on your mind)  
Shine on this life that's burning out

Don't you know I want you to SHINE  
Shine down on me  
Shine on this life that's burning out  
  
**Preview**

_Jan Valentine: _It's Janny

_Luke Valentine: _And Luke

_Both: _With the weather report.

_Seras: _Hold it, you two. You died three years ago.

_Jan: _We did? Whoa, what a mind fuck.

_Luke:_ But this is the preview, we're like the Marely's ghosts of the Hellsing past.

_Seras:_ Oh, just scat you two. In our next chapter...

_Cole Turner: _Hey, could you tell me where the author's office is?

_Seras: _Who are you?

_Cole:_ Oh, sorry. Cole Turner, former Source of All Evil, currently DA for Los Angeles sixth precinct.

_Seras: _Up the stairs, third door on your left.

_Cole:_ Thanks, miss.

_Seras: _Now, in our next chapter...

_Halconnen fairy: _Hunter fixes Shashimi tempura and bulgogi, Alucard and Integra go dancing, and Vash kisses Robin while Amon goes bowling with Walter.

_Seras: _You again?

**Chapter 10: Crash into Me**


	10. Crash into Me

A/N: In which Hunter and Seras go to a ball, Integra offers Alucard a challenge, and there is general air of _amour _and armour.

* * *

It was a dull morning. Grey clouds coated the sky, it was cold, mists cloaking the ground. Millions Knives looked out, enjoying the quiet that was rare in the small enclave. That insane vampire had finally left to sleep the day away, and he would be free of his incessant yammering. Though he wasn't human, the undead monster was still enough like those meddling spiders to be included in his plans. Only a few knew of his plans.

The old wound in his leg throbbed. His hand brushed in unconsciously, remembering the near escape from that bumbling brother of his and those cohorts. He sneered. The thought of his brother as a bounty hunter was a laugh. The pacifist nullwit would likely only take the 'alive' bounties. He reconsidered, remembering the priest and the two former insurance clerks. It had been a mistake to kill the parents of the two women. He had thought that it would frighten them enough to leave him be. It had the opposite effect.

He shrugged the thought away. He may be a superior being, but he was hardly omniscient. The cold wind blew, ruffling his short cut pale blonde hair. He heard the scuff-step of someone coming up the steps behind him. He turned, seeing the tall man that he had given the post of lieutenant. "Yes?" he said.

"Word from the watchers in Falklands, my liege. Your brother is investigating the trail we had left to distract him from the hunt."

"Are his companions with him?"

The man bowed his head, averting his golden eyes. "Our reports show the women with him. It is unknown at this time where the priest is."

"Very well," he said. Nothing he could do about it now. "You have my orders for Monev and Rai-Dei?"

"Yes, my master."

"Send them out at once. Legato?"

"Yes, lord?"

"Let them know the price of failure."

"Of course,"

Once the man had disappeared, Knives turned and looked out at the dismal sky. Yes, he may work for this vampire now, but he was his own master. He picked up the small mug of coffee, drinking it down before heading back into the complex himself.

He was sure of one thing. Erik Valar would not walk from this place alive. He would see to it personally.

* * *

The smell of salt wafted up to him along with the sounds of surf crashing on the rocks. He gazed out at the water, letting the work of art, this piece of Earth wrought by God's hand soothe him. He let his thoughts drift to the children that he guarded, so young, so defenseless. He felt his conviction grow as he thought of those innocent lives. He would wipe every last vampire from the face of the Earth to protect them, given leave and time.

He sighed. Yet somehow he always wound up leaving those two pet monsters of the Hellsing group be. He couldn't find an answer why. For some reason he kept winding up in situations that required him to work with them. The Millennium Nazi's were one case. His humiliation at the hands of that bastard Valar was another. He knew that Maxwell would assign him to some other case or give him time off once he returned to the Vatican. He couldn't allow that. He needed to pay that monster back, to take an eye for an eye, as he always did.

Even if it meant working with that she-devil and her corrupt friends.

He stood, stretching his huge frame, his hair wavering in the breeze. He set his glasses back on his nose and picked his way down the small trail to the cabin where the young fisherman had offered him board in return for guidance. The man's sins were minor, like what you would find in such a simple folk, but sometimes to refuse an offer would be to offend the giver. It was merely an example of the Scriptures. "The Lord giveth and He taketh away," he said, as he walked, the sea breeze blowing his jacket and robes about his body.

Perhaps, if he planned carefully, he would be the only one to walk away from the confrontation that was coming. He smiled. Yes, that was a welcome thought indeed.

His laugh echoed down the rocky sides of the bluff.

* * *

She woke slowly, feeling reluctance for leaving the bliss of sleep behind. She reached out to slap the control that would raise the lid of her bed, but her flailing arm hit only air. The fog coating her brain started to thin, and she also realized that there was an arm draped over her waist. She opened her eyes and saw that she wasn't in her room, she was in Hunter's. Where she had fallen asleep after toasting the memory of Pip and the others that she had known during her stay with Hellsing. Where Hunter had held her to give her comfort as she faced what she had done.

"Good afternoon," a voice said from behind her. She rolled onto her back and saw Hunter there, stretched across the top of the blanket, still in the simple togs and sleeveless tunic he had put on after changing out of his wet clothes. She smiled at him. "You didn't stay there all day, did you?" she asked.

He smiled back. "No, I ran a few errands, getting replacement equipment and ammunition. But I made sure to check in from time to time. You slept fitfully at first, but as the day went on you settled down. Seemed to have some interesting dreams, too. Smiled a lot during them." He hopped over her, his bare feet slapping on the stones. "Now get up, slugabed. It's time for some training."

"Training?" she asked as she slid out from the blankets. The baggy sweats and t-shirt she had on hid her form in the voluminous cloth. "Should I go change?"

"No, it's mental exercises first. We're going to tap into your ability to mask your form, much like I did at the club." He sat on the floor, legs crossed in the lotus position. He gestured to the spot in front of him. "Please, make yourself comfortable."

She sat, mirroring his position as best she could. He reached out and pushed her eyes closed. "I want you to picture yourself in your mind, much as if you were looking in a mirror. Don't bother with details just yet. Just focus on the basics, height, eyes, form, hair colour and length, and so on."

She built the image in her minds, using his guidance. He showed her the mental paths to follow, the roads to turn on. When she thought she had it enough to try on her own, she nodded. "Now I want you to pick a feature, like how long your hair is or your eye colour, something simple." He waited until she had decided before continuing. "Now I want you to picture it different, in a substantial way."

She focused on her spiky blonde hair, matted from sleep. She imagined it growing longer, darkening to a malt blonde then into a red-tinged brown, much as her mothers had been. For a few moments, she felt nothing happen, then she felt something brush against the back of her neck. She gasped, eyes flying open. Hunter sat in front of her still, a smirk on his face.

"You look good as a brunette, Police Girl," he said trying to keep the laughter out of his voice.

She reached behind her head and grabbed the mass of hair that hung there, pulling it in front of her, looking at the dark colour, so close to the wine they had drunk the night before. As she marveled at it, Hunter cleared his throat.

"You did good, but simple things like that are easy. Now we'll try something a bit tougher, like altering physical features. We'll try your hands. Fix what they look like in your mind."

Seras pictured her hands, the short, nimble fingers, slightly stocky. She had always wanted long, tapered fingers like Integra had, so delicate, so regal. It was easier, now that she knew how to shape the thought pattern, but it still took her several tries before she felt her hands start to tingle, almost like a tickle. She opened her eyes and saw that her hands had shifted into a longer, slimmer form, not quite the delicate hands that she had envisioned, but still different from her normal hands. After another few tries with Hunter's guidance, she managed to get them formed like she had pictured.

"Now for the tricky part," he said as she released the changes, shifting back to her normal self. "Changing multiple parts at once. Stand up, and fix the image of yourself firmly in your mind, then choose what you would want to appear as. It's much the same process, but you are doing it on a larger scale. Don't change the features to something radically different, just a minor shift."

She saw herself, short, blonde, and a bit on the young side. She pictured herself taller, a little older, her hair brushing her shoulders. She felt the brush of her hair on her neck and shoulders, and the slight tickle-tingle spreading across her body. She kept the picture in her mind, waiting for the tingling to stop, when she heard a saccharine voice purr from the side. "My, how've you've grown, Police Girl."

Her eyes snapped open and she saw Alucard standing there, leaning against the doorframe. He held a smirk on his face that she had come to associate with pride and smug confidence. "If I had known it would have been this easy, I would have started your training long ago."

She felt a bit of heat rise to her cheeks, followed by a small flash of anger. He had held off thinking she wouldn't be able to learn?

_Calm down, Seras, _a voice thought at her, tinged with the wry laughter of Hunter's sarcasm. _If you remember how long it took you to feed willingly, you'd understand his hesitation._

Her anger faded. He was right.

"I take it you and Integra are up and about finally?" he said to the vampire in the meantime.

"I am, but she has been up for several hours, back at work." He came in, the long red coat draped over his slender frame brushing against his calves. "I understand you came into some information about the _Anusan_ that might be helpful," he said as he lowered himself into a chair and crossed his long, booted legs.

"You could say that," Hunter said. "I'm waiting on a few things to get verified, but I think there is a very real chance that it won't be as bad as it could be."

"You're being awfully vague, Thanatos," chided the dark-haired vampire.

"A necessity born out of habit. I don't want to say something now that might be proven incorrect thereafter." He stood, brushing the bottom of the togs he was wearing. He waved a hand at Seras. "She makes a beautiful thirty-something, doesn't she?"

Seras blushed again. She glanced out of the corner of her eye at the mirror hanging over the bureau, seeing the slight smile lines that had graced her face now, the fuller face and body, the hair curling around her shoulders. She looked at the two men in the room. "I guess I'm a fast learner when you have a good teacher," she said, trying to give a quick jibe at her former master but was surprised when her voice sounded different. The looks on the two faces in front of her confirmed that her voice was different. Hunter smirked with satisfaction while Alucard raised an eyebrow in surprise.

"You can let it drop now, Seras," Hunter said. Her viewpoint shifted as she shrank back to her old height, and she felt the slight glimmerings of pride that she had expanded her control of her powers. She wondered what other abilities she would be able to call forth now.

"Time to go to the ball anyway," he said.

She looked at him. "What ball?"

He shrugged. "Some hobnob function in Birmingham. It's being thrown by a man named Kale Rivlar. There are quite a few people on the guest list that were part of _Das Millennium _and as the scrabble fiend pointed out, it's an anagram for Erik Valar."

"Scrabble fiend?" asked the blonde.

"Robin is rather fond of word games, as I found out during lunch today." He shook his head. "You ever try to get a triple word score with nothing but consonants? She ate me alive."

She giggled at that. "Well, if we're going to a ball, I should hop in the shower."

"Take your time, Cinderella," said Alucard. "It's not for another four hours, and we've yet to turn the pumpkin into the carriage."

She shot him a glare that she softened with a slight smile. She phased out, heading for her room to shower and change. As she arrived at her destination, a voice filtered into her head.

_Don't get into anything fancy, we're going in disguise. Why do you think I had you work on that for two hours? _Hunter chuckled in her mind. _We'll work out the details of what to wear when you get done._

_As long as you stay out of my mind when I get in and out of my shower, _she thought at him, teasing. The mirror in her bathroom was directly across from the shower.

_Who, me? _came the response, in hurt tones. _I wouldn't think of doing something like that._

_Good. I'd hate to have to put you in another police hold._

His laugh echoed hers as she cranked on the shower, the room starting to fill with steam.

* * *

Integra smoothed the tie she wore as she resettled herself in the chair. Dressed in her more traditional suit, its dark grey colour melding with that of the chair she sat in, she brushed a stray lock of her pale blonde hair behind her ear.

"Interesting," she said as she looked at the two forms in front of her. Hunter stood in the same dark tunic and jeans he had been wearing when she had first seen him, his broad face set with another of those damning smirks. Alucard stood beside him, his red coat and slate grey suit a riot of colour compared to the Dhampir's somber array and her more mature suit tone.

"Are you sure that it will go off as planned?" she asked. It was a risky plan.

The vampire shrugged. "Few things are certain, Master. But we are relatively sure that he won't risk an out and out confrontation with so many people there. Some of them are from Iscariot, undoubtedly plants from Maxwell to keep tabs on this large gathering of Millennium alumni."

Hunter nodded, his rust-coloured hair swaying as he did. "Plus, he'll want the fight to be on his ground, where he'll have backup and complete knowledge of the terrain. He'll flaunt and intimidate, but he'll hold off from violence."

"Again, are you sure?" she asked, eyeing him hard.

One of his loose-shouldered shrugs. "Not really, but I'm going on the fact that he's tried to stay hidden thus far. I'm going in under the identity of a Millennium member that died in your attack three years ago. If anything happens, it'll be after we leave. Amon and Robin will be there as backup."

She nodded. Her own thoughts followed the same lines. She looked at Alucard. "And what will you be doing during this?" she asked him.

He flashed his wide grin. "Why, my favorite pastime, Master."

"Annoying me?" she asked with a smile.

"My second favorite pastime, then. There are some FREAKS out in Manchester that I thought I would deal with as a distraction. Plus, I am rather bored, and dances don't do much for me after that night with Mina and your ancestor."

Her lips quirked at that. Abraham Van Helsing had set up a long mirror to expose his lack of a reflection, the stories said. It had backfired on him, since that was a superstition, but the man's ingenuity had rather annoyed the vampire, along with his persistence.

She folded her tan hands in front of her, thinking. "Do it," she said simply. The two men nodded and left, Alucard phasing into the shadows and Hunter using the door.

"Alucard," she said. The vampire returned.

"Yes, my Master?" he had his usual smirk on his face, eyes hidden behind his glasses. She beckoned him closer. When he was at her desk, she reached out, grabbed the ribbon that he used for a tie and pulled him down for a kiss.

"Hurry back," she said, her voice implying that she would prefer him to be careful to fast.

"As you wish, Integra," he said, fading out again.

She sat back in her chair. No reason they should have _all_ the fun tonight. She'd find something to do to entertain herself.

And just maybe, a tall, dark-haired companion to join her.

She smiled.

* * *

"That?" she asked, not quite believing. Hanging on a rack in her room was a long gown set in tones of pale yellow with threads of blue shot through if you looked at it at an angle. A wrap of grey-blue lay draped across the shoulder of the dress, held in place with an intricate shoulder sculpt, a brooch of pewter, shaped like a Celtic knot.

"Why not?" said Walter as he turned from the door. "It does fit the manner of dress that you will be mingling with."

"I can't wear that, it's too long!" She went and felt it. Silk or some similar smooth material. _And I'm afraid of damaging it, _she thought to herself.

_You won't, _Hunter said. She turned, seeing him attired in a three-piece tuxedo, the banded collar of his shirt still undone. "It would fit you rather well as you were earlier, with some minor changes." He winked at her. She pinked as she thought back to the shape-shifting exercises they had done earlier.

"What about you? Aren't you going to go in disguise as well?" she looked at his familiar, if clean shaven, face.

"No sense in getting ready as early as I was dressed. But if it'll appease you, I could..."

"No, I believe you." She regarded the dress. "You think it will look good on me?" she asked.

He laughed. "What?" she demanded.

"A moment ago you were worried about if it would fit and if you would hurt it. Now you are wondering if it'll go with your hair." He shook his head. "Instead of wondering, how about getting into it?" He motioned for Walter to follow him out to the hall.

Seras pulled the gown from the hanger, setting the wrap and sculpt to the side and slid into the dress. It pooled about her feet, too long by a good three inches. It was also a little loose in the hip and waist. She shrugged and used what she had learned earlier to take care of the problems, and then glanced in her mirror. She blushed; it did look good on her. She grew her hair out and changed it to a dark red which she worked into an intricate braid that she let hang down her back. She shifted her eye colour into the same blue it had been in her life before that night in Cheddar. She heard a gentle knock at the door and turned. "Come in," she said.

Hunter poked his head in, and did a double take at her appearance. "You do learn fast," he said. He walked up and fingered the braid. "What lovely hair," he mumured.

"Yes, what about it?" she asked, looking up into his eyes. They had an almost distant expression.

"Well, it's just that, well," he said as a grin slid across his face.

_Uh-oh, _she thought and started to step away. She got away, but not before he had flicked the end of her braid up and caught her lightly across her pert nose with it. She mock-glared at him. "That was uncalled for," she said.

He shrugged. "So get me back after we get back. It's time to go." He buttoned the top button of his shirt and a slight haze covered his features. When it cleared, he had short brown hair and piercing green eyes that almost glowed from his pale skin. "Shall we?" he asked in a thick German accent.

"Let's," she said, taking his arm. She pulled the wrap across her shoulders and fastened the sculpt over the left side of her body. They reached a car and slid inside. Hunter slid a CD into the radio and hit the play button as they drove off. Eric Clapton came over the speakers, the gentle tones of 'Wonderful Tonight' fitting in with the attire.

Seras giggled. Hunter looked at her. "What's so funny?" he asked.

"Just that I never thought I'd be going to a ball, or anything dressed up so fancy. It's like a dream I had as a little girl."

He smiled. "Sometimes it just takes a while for dreams to come true," he said. He glanced at her from the corner of his eye. "Speaking of dreams, what _did _you dream about last night?" His tone suggested that he had an idea.

"I thought a gentleman didn't inquire as to the private affairs of a lady," she said, teasingly.

"Ordinarily I wouldn't, but you tend to mumble in your sleep. My name and Pip's came up a few times. There was also something I didn't quite make out. Sounded like 'snog', but I could be wrong."

She flushed bright red, face blending with the shade she had turned her hair. So she did talk in her sleep. She'd always wondered about that. "Um," she started.

He reached out and patted her on the shoulder. "I was teasing, _bishoujo_. You don't have to tell me."

_Is it because you already have an idea? _she thought.

_Something of one. I thought you woke up unusually adjusted for the wreck you had gone to bed as. _He slowed and turned the corner, drawing up to a large house, ablaze with lights. "Here we are, milady."

A valet took the car and the two walked up to the door, where a man in a white doublet and grey pants stood with a bored air. "Invitation," he said, as though he was half asleep.

Hunter handed him a folded piece of paper. The man didn't even look at it as he waved them by. Seras looked back as they walked in.

_Sloppy security, _she thought.

_Take a look around,_ _Ginger Nut. _

She looked as she elbowed him for the nickname, and was amazed at the number of people already in the audience chamber. There had to be close to two hundred people, and the party had just begun. _I see what you mean, _she thought. _I'd be bored if I had to collect this many invitations._

_I meant around the room, not at the people. _He tossed his chin at a pillar in the corner, and Seras saw two men resting in the shadows, the obvious air of guards about them. As she scanned the rest of the room, she picked up on little things that she would have missed if not for her police training and enhanced eyesight. Cameras in corners, guards posing as guests, and a large glass wall that had to be two-way with a control room on the other side.

_A lot of security for such a small affair, _she said to him.

_If I had invited this many people important to my operation, I'd make damn sure they were safe too. _He led her to the dance floor. _Let's keep up appearances until my dear father deigns to make a showing._

The music was a slow waltz, and he led her through the steps with reasonable ease. She grinned. _I hope this turns out better than our last date did._

She had the satisfaction of seeing him blush before he smiled. _True, I would think that gunfire would ruin the evening. And how would I get you back for a third?_

She gave a soft giggle. _How indeed? _she thought, laying her head against his shoulder.

* * *

They danced for some time, mingled with the other guests, and sampled the food set out on a buffet before Hunter finally sighed in exasperation.

"Maybe it was just a coincidence," he said.

"Perhaps," a voice said behind them. They turned and saw Robin and Amon dressed much as they were. Amon wore a Japanese suit with golden stichery depicting a dragon curving around to his back. Robin was sheathed from throat to calves in a form-fitting red dress, her blonde hair piled on top of her head, glasses on the tip of her nose.

"Any problems?" he asked the witches.

"None. By the time we got here, the door warden was more or less just looking to see if we were armed."

Robin smiled. "Like he could disarm me," she said with a laugh. She turned to Seras. "_Que bella capelli_," she said, smiling.

"Now, now, let's not go and set things on fire. They might not invite us back for the next little get-together." Hunter glanced around. "Sides, I doubt anything would happen in here. It's when we leave that trouble could start."

Seras tapped him on the shoulder. "Over there," she said, pointing to a man coming down a staircase. He was attired in a suit of purple silk, a cream-coloured tunic beneath the jacket. His long black hair was tied with a braided gold cord. The features of his face were set in an aristocratic smile, his thin brows and hawkish nose giving him the air of a noble from a hundred years gone.

"Yup, that's daddy dearest," Hunter said. "Shall we go say hello?"

Seras didn't really want to, but she went with him over to the man. Hunter stuck his hand out and smiled. "Kale Rivlar, it has been too long."

The man turned, a smile on his face that faded slightly as he tried to place the face before him. "Indeed it has, too long. I'm sorry, but I seem to be having difficulty placing your name."

"Oh, forgive me. The event where we met was so much more important to me than it was to you, I'm sure. Kieran Ford." They shook hands.

"Ah, I know you now. You were part of dear Rip's navy contingent, were you not?"

"Yes, though she perished shortly after I transferred to her direct command. My wife, Leila," he said, with a slight hand motion at Seras.

"My dear, it is an honor," he said, kissing her hand. Seras smiled and merely nodded her head.

"So, how is it you managed to escape the same fate as Rip?" asked the man under the alias 'Rivlar' as they walked amongst the milling guests.

"I had been in my quarters when the alarm came. I was on my way to my station when an explosion knocked me to the ground." He reached up and pulled down his collar, exposing a large, puckered scar. "I almost did not survive."

"I see. You are one of the lucky ones that made it out, then. What purpose do you have to bring to the Council?"

Seras kept her thoughts to herself. She didn't know anything they were talking about, and hoped that Hunter was fast enough to keep from seeming suspicious.

"Oh, I just wanted to see my dear father. It seems like it's been centuries since we've talked." The Dhampir looked at Rivlar. "It's been a long time, and you didn't stay to talk last time." His voice was cold, emotionless.

"Ah, Robin. I didn't recognize you. Or should I call you James now?" He cast his gaze at Seras. "I assume she is one of the Hellsing brats?"

"If you want to call them that." He looked at the man. "But time enough for introductions later. No hug for your son? I'm hurt."

"Your tongue is sharp, young one." He glared at him. "Be careful it doesn't cut your own head off."

"Oh, the disappointed _Pater Familius_. They say the apple doesn't fall far from the tree, you know." He leveled his gaze at his father. "I'm going to come for what's mine, whatever that might be. If you truly have anything now, that is." He started to turn, leading Seras off when a hand grabbed his shoulder.

"I would be careful of what you meddle in, lest you get involved in something deeper than you are tall." He looked at the half-breed, a storm behind his eyes. "I would hate to see you get hurt, or your lady friend."

"Oh, how I tremble. You know that I'm not impressed by shows of intimidation, Father. And I know that you are well aware of my past, so I know that you aren't saying it out of fatherly concern. I know what it is you're doing, and I will stop you by any means necessary." He let his eyes shift back to the grey-blue they normally were, the light in the room not reflecting from them. "Any means necessary."

"A shame then," his father said. "And I thought there was hope that I could save you from the fate that these others would face in the long run."

"A shame," agreed Hunter. "Good evening to you, Father."

"Have a safe ride home, James."

"Oh, you might want to tell the guards to get a slightly larger suit jacket if they're going to carry a pistol in a shoulder holster. The bulge is rather obvious, especially on that _bishounen _over there."

"I'll pass it along. Until next time?"

Hunter smiled, showing his fangs somewhat. "Of course."

* * *

As they walked out to the car, Seras punched him hard on the arm. "What the _HELL _were you thinking?" she said.

"I wanted to rile him up a bit so Amon and Robin could get out unnoticed. And get him back for that mind probe. Let's get out of here before someone decides to take a potshot at us." The car pulled smoothly away from the curb.

"Get him _back?_ You have got to be kidding me."

"Of course I am. I used it to crack his control and probe his mind. I got the location of his base while he was trying to cover his shock. Now keep an eye in the rear view, please," he said, cranking the mirror around so she could use it to watch behind them. "I'm sure they'll be coming any second."

"Who?" she asked.

He didn't have a chance to answer as a car slammed into them as they passed through an intersection. He fought the wheel for control. "Them," he said. He downshifted and cranked the wheel hard to the left, pulling away from them. He spun up a side street, loosing them for a few moments. "There's a pistol under your seat, so would you like to drive or shoot?"

She looked at the fast gaining car. "I'll shoot, if you don't mind."

She hauled the gun out, seeing that it was an older Colt 1911. She checked the magazine, then turned and started to open the sunroof.

"Just shoot through the back window," Hunter said. "I'm sure Sir Integra will get over it."

She shrugged, and slid over to the back seat and knocked the rear windscreen out. She started firing at the car that was now within thirty meters and gaining fast. She gouged holes in the hood and fenders, but she didn't penetrate. "They're armoured," she shouted over the sound of the wind.

_See if you can hit a tire or something, _he thought back at her. As a return shot _spanged! _off the trunk, he sent another thought back. _And make sure your red head doesn't get taken off in the meantime, Rusty._

She smiled, glad for the concern he was showing. It was like the early days of D-11, or the times she spent shoulder to shoulder with Pip. _Thanks for the concern, but my hair is going back to normal as soon as we get out of this. I don't think I can take another one of those nicknames._

_Keep your eye on the guns, Police Girl, _he shot back as another bullet ricocheted off the back of the car. She emptied the clip at the car, trying to pierce the windscreen.

_Got another clip for this thing?_

_Not on me. Hold onto something, _he said a few moments before slamming on the brakes. The car slid back, slamming into the pursuing car. There was a sound like tearing metal, and as Hunter sped up again, the car behind them stayed right on the bumper.

_I think we're hooked on something, _she thought. She eyed the men in the other car. They were dazed from the impact.

_No huge matter, _he thought. He was eyeing the road in front of them. _Is there something back there we can use to jam the gas pedal down with?_

Her eyes lit on an umbrella in the floorboards. She grabbed it and handed it up to him before she realized what he was going to do. _You aren't, _

_I am. They knew the risks when you started shooting back at them. Get ready._

She shook her head. What was it about men that made them so ready to shoot first and forget about asking questions?

_It's part of our charming personalities. And I haven't always been a saint. All Undead persons please exit the vehicle now, thank you for traveling with Hunter cab service._

She rolled her eyes as she phased out of the car. _Comedian, _she thought.

"Yeah, but I'm a comedian in one piece, which is more than we'll be able to say for them." he said from beside her. They stood in the street as the two cars sped towards the retaining wall at the end of the street. Someone must have recovered enough to realize what was going on, as the brake lights on the second car flared into life a split second before they slammed into the wall. The resulting explosion lit the night, sending a plume of smoke into the air. A car slid up behind them, Amon at the wheel. "Took you long enough," he said to the man. "You and Robin go for ice cream or something?"

"No, we thought we'd let you handle it. It's your own fault for riling him up." Amon gazed at the conflagration. "Did you get the information you had hoped for?"

Hunter shook his head. "No, just the locale. His mind didn't shake open enough for me to get an exact read."

Seras heard the faint sounds of sirens. "Could we finish this back at the manor? I'd rather not be here when the cops arrive."

They climbed in the car and started up a side street, heading back to the main boulevard. Hunter shifted back to his normal form, then smacked himself on the forehead. "Oh bollocks," he said.

"What?" asked Robin.

"I left my CD in the stereo."

The two women tittered. "All that over a CD?" asked Seras.

"Hey, I liked that CD. Had all my favorite songs on it."

"So, now we go in and break up whatever he's got planned?" Amon glanced in the rearview, business oriented as usual.

"Eventually. I think we should just let them stew a bit about just how much we know, let them get sloppy."

Robin looked at him. "And if they try to do something in the meantime?"

He shrugged. "Then we deal with it."

* * *

Integra glanced up at the form that entered her office. She sighed. "And again, I thought we had discussed this, Alucard."

The red-draped form smiled. "I was under the impression that you wanted me to return at the soonest opportunity. This seemed the fastest way to fulfill your wish."

Another sigh. "Remind me to clarify myself in the future," she said.

"Of course, Master."

She looked at him as he settled himself in the chair, his lanky form slouching in the comfortable leather. "The targets?"

"They were all silenced. It was really too easy, but it was fun to get out and stretch my wings a bit."

"Any complications?" she asked, standing and crossing the desk to settle against the front of it.

"None to speak of, Master. They were the same small, pitiful bits of scum I've been fighting for years now."

"Perhaps this Valar would be a suitable foe. Incognito was merely his fledgling, after all,"

The vampire nodded. "He would be a suitable foe, but it is not my fight, as I said the other night. This is one that I cannot take part in."

"And if I had another challenge for you?" she asked.

"What did you have in mind, Master?"

She smiled. "How about keeping me safe for the night?"

"Hardly a challenge. There is likely nothing to happen this night."

"Oh?" she arched an eyebrow. "Would you like to make something happen, then?"

Alucard smiled slyly. "What would you like to happen?"

"Why don't you come with me and find out?" she said, taking his hands and pulling him up out of the chair.

"As my Master wishes," he said, for the first time not speaking the title or the phrase with sarcasm.

* * *

_Drum Fill_

I never really feel quite right and I don't know why  
All I know is that something's wrong  
Everytime I look at you you seem so alive.

Tell me how do you do it?  
Walk me through it,  
I'm following everyfootstep

Maybe on your own you take a cautious step  
Do you want to give it up?

But all I want is for you to SHINE  
Shine down on me  
Shine on this life that's burning out.

I say a lot of things sometimes that don't come out right  
And I act like I don't know why  
I guess the reaction is all I was looking for, yeah

You looked through me,  
You really knew me,  
Like no one has ever looked before

Baby on your own you take a cautious step  
Do you want to give it up?

But all I want is for you to SHINE  
Shine down on me,  
Shine this life that's burning out.

I know, I know, girl you got something  
  
SHINE (shine it on to me)  
Shine down on me (I wanna feel it)  
Shine on this life that's burning out

_Instrumental break_

Baby on your own you take a cautious step  
Do you wanna give it up?  
  
But all I want is for you to SHINE  
Shine down on me (just show me something)  
Shine on this life that's burning out (you give me something that I never  
know)  
  
SHINE (it gonna kill me if you give something away)  
Shine down on me(I wanna know what's going in on your mind)  
Shine on this life that's burning out

Don't you know I want you to SHINE  
Shine down on me  
Shine on this life that's burning out

* * *

**Preview**

_Seras: _So, we went to a dance, got in a car chase, and basically made goo-goo eyes at each other.

_Hunter: _Yeah, that's the long and short of it.

_Seras: _Did anything happen that was of any importance?

_Hunter: _Well, I think Integra and Alucard took advantage of the empty manor, but other than that, not really. Found a nice place to put a summer home, if we can evict the baddies that are currently set up there.

_Integra: _Your findings are irrelevant.

_Hunter: _Actually, we found where he was basing his plan of attack.

_Integra: _Oh?

_Seras: _Yes, sir, we did.

_Integra: _Well done, then. I believe you have a preview to do, Commander?

_Seras: _Oh, right! In our next chapter of 'There but for the Grace,' we begin the assault on Erik Valar's island, Hunter's dark past comes to the fore, and the strained alliance between Iscariot and Hellsing is tested again.

_Anderson:_ I was wondering when ye were going to bring me back into the story, she-beast.

_Hunter: _Might want to watch it, Anderson.

_Seras: _I've got this one, dear.

_Anderson: _I'm not afraid of ye, whelp.

_Hunter: _Actually, our time's up, guys.

**Chapter 11: Shadows of the Past

* * *

**

A/N: Robin's quote at the ball means 'What beautiful hair' in Italian. I'm pretty sure everyone here knows what a _bishoujo _and _bishounen _would be. Just five chapters left if I follow the original plan. I'm sad, it's ending so quickly.


	11. Shadows of the Past

A/N: A lot of flashbacks and setup for the last four chapters. Hunter's past comes to the front and the groups begin to gather for the final confrontation.

* * *

_Then_

A voice woke him, a voice that shouldn't have been inside his private quarters.

"Wake up, Prefect Vasquez. We have things to discuss, you and I."

He sat up, his large bulk rippling as he looked about. He spotted the man sitting in the chair by his desk. He was dressed in a dark cloak that disguised all but his head. Brown hair framed a slender face with piercing grey-blue eyes. His body, while broad, was not overly large. He sat with his booted legs crossed, as though the Prefect were in his office, not the other way around.

"Who are you, and how did you get in past my guards?" the portly man demanded.

"I am not without my methods of eluding detection. And before you think about calling for your guards," his hand appeared from beneath his cloak, gripping a small crossbow, quarrel already fitted and drawn. "I assure you that you would be dead before your call was completed. As for my name, you would know me as the _Asesino de los asesinos_."

The man on the bed paled, and a sheen of sweat appeared on his forehead. "What are you doing here, assassin?"

"There is a small matter of the four men and women you had executed for heresy a fortnight ago. Their families contacted me."

"I am within my rights as the Prefect of this area to execute those who go against the Holy Doctrine as they did. They..."

"They stole food from the coffers of the church to feed their children!" exploded the cloaked man, rising. He wasn't tall, but the effect was intimidating. "Has your time in this house made you blind to the suffering of those less fortunate?"

"They went against a city edict, they knew their fate."

"As you should know yours. You are going to die tonight. By my hand."

"They say you are an honorable man, why would you kill me for this? Did they pay you well? Is your soul so cheaply bought?"

"My soul," the man started to laugh. "If I have a soul, it was damned the day I was born."

He leveled the crossbow. "This quarrel has been dipped in _Triassis _sap. I assume you know what that means."

Vasquez shook his head. He was a bureaucrat, not a soldier or assassin.

"It is a potent poison. As it works its way through your blood, you will start to find it difficult to breathe. You will die slowly, from asphyxiation. As those men and women did when you ordered them to hang." He raised the weapon a touch higher. "Have you any last words before I send you to Hell?"

"For the love of God, don't do this! If I am to burn in Hell for the deaths of those people, then you will surely burn with me, you have to see that. This is not right!"

"I never said it was right. This is justice for those that received none at your hands. As for Hell," he shrugged. "It'll be a long time before Beelzebub comes for me. It's been a century and then some already, so what's a little more? You will see him soon, however."

"For the love of God, please!"

"The love of God? If you had given any thought as to God's love prior to that day we would not be in this situation." He lofted something at the man. He looked down and saw two gold coins in his lap. He looked up, fear in his eyes.

"When the Raftman comes, use those to pay your way across the Styx. Goodbye, Prefect Vasquez." He fired, catching the man in the shoulder just above the heart. He turned, not bothering to watch as the poison started to take effect. He walked to the window and looked out, seeing the moon low in its orbit. He glanced back, seeing the shade of purple the man had started turning. He turned away again and phased out of the room.

He had little love for the Catholics after the Inquisition. After they had taken her from him.

Robin Valar headed for his next appointment.

* * *

_Now_

He rarely slept. It was a side effect of his dual nature. When he did, it tended to be dreamless, and of short duration. But when he did dream, they were vivid.

He stood in a field, his hand gripped within the hand of a young woman. He looked at her, her dark brown hair and dark skin tone were some of the very things that had drawn him to her. She was part Gypsy, if he wasn't mistaken. She had an air of light heartedness and joy that made it hard not to feel upbeat in her presence.

The sky turned dark, clouding over as lightning flashed. She was ripped from his grasp by men in voluminous red cloaks and skull caps. He recognized Pope Sixtus, Archdeacon Martinez, Bishop Faugno, and the first General Inquisitor, Thomas de Torquemada. He struggled to hold on, but was thrust backwards. He landed on a table.

He was tied down, all but his left forearm. There was a hissing sound, and looking up, he saw a large blade swinging from side to side, huge arcs that brought it lower with each traverse. He struggled against his bonds, but could not gain freedom. The blade hissed and swung lower, lower still, slicing into his doublet, then into the flesh of his chest, traveling back for another pass that would surely disembowel him. The blade glinted in the light as he gave a mighty effort to sit up and...

Wound up nearly throwing himself from the bed he had been given in the Hellsing manor. He was soaked in sweat, as were the sheets and the clothes he wore. The blanket was wrapped in his legs as though he had been running in his sleep. He felt hands on his shoulders, and dimly, the voice of Seras Victoria came to his ears.

"James! What is it?"

He looked around, trying to separate memory from what was in front of him. Walter was also in the room, his wizened face concerned. He scrubbed his hands across his face, feeling the slight growth of stubble that had grown over the day and evening since the ball. This was now, this was real, not the dream of that horrid time in the Inquisition. He remembered the feel of the iron blade slicing into his flesh, passing out from the pain, and waking later on a pile of bodies headed for a mass grave. He had slipped off the wagon and slid into the woods. He later received word that Miranda had also been sentenced to death by the Inquisition.

And then there had been that five year time where he had put his conscience aside to avenge her and those wronged by that horrid event.

Walter held out a glass of water, which he took and gulped it down, beads of water escaping from the sides of his mouth and trickling down the sides of his face. He swiped at the sweat that ran into his eyes, fighting against the stinging sensation.

He reached up and grabbed Seras' hand, squeezing it to reassure her that he was alright. But was he really? His heart was still racing from the sheer terror that he had felt, the echo of the fear he had felt back at the time. He looked up at his friends, the people that had come to mean so much to him, and thought of the others that he had around the world and in the past.

He felt the stab of guilt again as he thought about those five years, how far from the right he had traveled. He had come to grips with it, but he still hated the idea of the violence he had wrought across Europe. Nineteen deaths in all, out of spite and revenge.

Seras had come to grips with shooting the man she loved and telling him had helped with that healing.

But could he tell her what he had done and hope for similar healing?

"I'm ok, I just had a bad dream." He shooed the both of them back from him. "I'm ok, really."

Walter nodded and left. Bless the man, he knew enough that he could read between the lines. Seras sat on the bed, her eyes still betraying a bit of concern. He arched an eyebrow at her. "Yes?" he said, he normal voice and smirk already forming over his features.

"Do you have bad dreams often?" she asked.

"Not really. I usually don't dream. When I do, they get pretty graphic, and I've had things done to me and seen things done to others that just drawing from my memory would make a whole lot of horror movies." He tilted his head a bit towards her. "So what is with the concern?" he asked, sensing something deeper in play.

"It's just that, well," she looked down, her cheeks pinking slightly. "You kind of shouted Miranda mentally before you started speaking aloud." She looked at him, mirroring his look. "Who was Miranda?"

He ran his hand back through his matted hair. "Miranda was a woman in the Fifteenth century that had such fervor for life that it reinvigorated me. I had already been alive for around a hundred and nine years, and the grind was starting to wear on me, so it was something I needed more than anything. She was also completely aware of what I was and wasn't afraid. She was half Gypsy, and the Gypsies believed in all sorts of beings, that they were not good or evil based on their race, but their actions. The two years I spent with her tribe restored much of my faith in mankind and gave me a lot of my current outlook on life."

"So what happened that would make you have a bad dream about her?"

"Do you know what happened in the Fifteenth Century, Seras? The Inquisition. She was taken by the Inquisition, and in her time there they found out about me. They took me as well, and I was sentenced to the Pendulum. I 'died' on a blood stained table where hundreds of innocent men and women had been sliced to ribbons."

"After that, I went...feral, for a while. I had no home, no one that I trusted, I stayed away from most villages and towns except in the deep of night when I would go in and steal food and supplies. And...other things."

She looked at him. "Other things?"

"There is a period of five years that I'm not proud of, that I wish with a great passion had never happened. Though I've accepted that I can't change the past, my conscience still pokes me with that time occasionally."

"What did you do?"

He smiled grimly. So youthful, so innocent despite what's she's seen and done. "I killed people, Seras. I was an assassin. I preyed mostly on those that were in heavy support of the Inquisition and perpetuated its evil in their own domain." He closed his eyes. "While many would not see it as evil, it was not right either. I didn't kill them quickly or cleanly, but the same way they killed."

"How many people?" she asked, her voice quiet.

"Nineteen," he said. His voice was as quiet as hers. "Four were targets, fifteen were guards that merely got in the way. The guards I gave quick, painless deaths. But the other four," he sighed. "It should not have happened."

She reached out and rested her hand on his shoulder. "We all do things that we don't like. You've shown me that sometimes things happen and we have to deal with them."

She stood and threw the clothes he had sitting on the table at him. "I may not agree with what you did, but I understand why and I acknowledge that it was in your past. Far in the past," she amended. "So I can assume that the person that did those things in no longer with us. Am I right?"

He smirked. "In more ways then one, Police Girl. After I realized how wrong it was, and what Miranda would have thought, I left Europe. Spent six years in the Orient seeking peace. It wasn't the first trip I made, either. I made a few others through the years."

He swung his legs over the edge of the bed. "Now if you would be so kind as to vacate so that I could shower and change, I would be much obliged."

She smirked. "It's not like you have something I haven't seen before," she commented.

"No, but I'm a bit shy."

"You know, they say the way to get over shyness is to get so involved in something that you forget to be shy," she said with a sly grin.

"Yeah, but I doubt that was what they had in mind. Besides, we aren't that close just yet."

She arched an eyebrow at him. "Oh? Yet you say?"

"Well, far be it for me to deny that something could happen. You never know," he disappeared into the bathroom and cranked on the shower.

"Besides, we need to get ready for the briefing. We are going to start the assault soon. We don't want to be tired."

She giggled and nodded. "Alright, I'll let you go this time. I'll see you at the briefing." She started to leave.

"Seras," he said.

"Yeah?"

"Were you always like this, or is this just something I bring out?"

"Well, near the end I started getting like this with Pip. Why?"

"Because you don't seem to be the type to blatantly suggest such things, at least from what I first gathered about you." He looked at her as he grinned. "Good to see you are coming out of that shell."

She smiled, one that would do the Mona Lisa proud. "I suppose," she said as she left.

Hunter shook his head. "Vampire women," he said as he stripped and climbed into the shower.

_I heard that, you._

_Stay out of my brain, Police Girl. It isn't polite._

He could almost see her smile as she pulled from his mind.

* * *

"I'm going with you," she said again.

Integra Hellsing stood in the office, Alucard before her in his somber grey suit, the eye on his tie standing out against the blandness of his attire. He looked at her like she had just said something so absurd that it was not to be believed.

"I don't think so," he said. "He's already tried to capture you for this ritual. Having you go with us would be inviting him to capture you again, and furthermore..."

"Furthermore, I am your Master and your commanding officer, so my word takes precedence over anything you say. You are overruled on this one, Alucard."

"I beg you to rethink this one, Master," he said in a soft voice. The look in his eyes was that of a man at the bedside of a sick loved one. "I've already told you how I feel about the possibility of loosing you."

She softened her gaze. "I understand that, and I assure you that you won't be loosing me." She walked to the small wardrobe in the office, pulling it open and drawing the saber from within, buckling the belt it hung from about her waist and slinging the long greatcoat over her shoulders. "I have a personal score on this one, not just the business of Hellsing. I might not be able to kill him, but I can cause as much havoc as I can in his operation while Hunter sends him to Hell." She looked at him, her glasses slipping down her nose a bit, forelocks of her long hair falling forward to frame her face as she gave a slight smile.

* * *

_A/N: Think the picture on the title page/frontpiece of Dead Zone 1

* * *

_"Besides, I can't let you guys have all the fun, now can I? Sometimes the commander needs to lead from the front."

Alucard sighed. She made a good point. "Of course, my Master."

She looked at him. "I know that look," she said with a slight hint of laughter.

"What look?"

"That look, the 'I-don't-agree-but-I'll-say-anything-to-avoid-an-argument-I'll-probably-loose' look."

"I object to the 'Probably loose' part, you know."

She smiled. "You would. And you would loose, you know."

"How do you know?"

"I'm a woman," she said as she kissed him on the cheek.

"We tend to win these arguments."

And she left for the briefing room, leaving him standing in her office with a bemused look on his face.

* * *

"As near as I can tell, it's about an hour due west of the outermost of the Falklands," Hunter said, pointing a laser pen at the projection screen. It showed a tiny spec in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean, something barely worth the ink used to print it.

"Not very large," Seras said.

"It's around sixty kilometers long and forty wide and covered with a few decent sized mountains. It isn't exactly Trafalgar Square." He clicked the button on the computer, advancing to the next slide, showing a topographical map. He traced a circle around the center one of a quintet, four on the outside and one in the center. "I expect he'll have dug out from under this one, since it'll mean we'll have to get over the others to get to it, and give him places to set up lookouts."

"So how do you plan to get us there?" Integra asked. She had a shoulder-holster for an old Walther PPK slung across her body. He didn't like the idea of her going anymore than Alucard did, but he knew better than to argue. "It's a bit far to take a ship, and if we want to have any sort of protection for those of us that need to hide from the sun we would need some sort of mobile base."

He smiled. "Not really," he said. He clicked to the next slide. "There is a small bit of rock about a kilometer or so from its northern shore that is mostly honeycombed caves. That should provide us with plenty of cover from the sun and a place to base the attack."

He clicked to the next slide and brought up several pictures. He pointed at the first one. "Outside of Erik Valar, we need to watch out for these men." He indicated the first man. He had a slightly upturned nose and a haughty look, pale blonde hair cut in an almost crew cut. He had the look of one stepped on so many times he wasn't against stepping on those he could.

"Millions Knives, a mercenary leader that heads a group of people called the Gung-Ho Guns. Age unknown, nationality unknown, virtually the only thing that is known about him is the fact that twenty years ago he single-handedly wiped out a small exploratory expedition on the edge of the Sahara, simply because he could. The only tie between him and the group killed was that the leader was a woman named Rem Saverem, who appears in his file as some sort of mentor."

He paused for a second. "His brother, Vash, is currently hunting for him as well. Before we leave, I'll see if I can track him down and get him to liaise with us."

He indicated the next man, the dark blue hair on his head almost as striking as the golden eyes set in his face and the sadistic look on his face. "Legato Bluesummers, the second in command. Not much is known about him outside of the fact that he is around thirty-eight and a mild telepath. He has been known to use his ability to take over peoples' minds and use them for various purposes. Those of us here, however," he smirked. "We aren't vulnerable to such tactics."

Hunter highlighted the third man, a mountain of muscle and foul temper. "Monev the Gale will be difficult just because of his sheer size and his propensity for using a modified minigun as his primary weapon of choice. But, like the old saying goes, the bigger they are,"

"The harder they fall," finished Walter.

Hunter nodded. "Exactly." He indicated the last man, his dark hair pulled in a topknot and dressed in a kimono. "Rai-Dei the Blade is one still adhered to the ancient art of the samurai. He will be the most difficult since he will not only prefer a frontal conflict, but has survived hundreds of such conflicts to date. He will be a tough nut to crack, so I think we'll leave him to our resident nut-cracker."

Alucard smiled. "I like a challenge. How hard will it be?"

"Hard to tell. Most of those that witness his skills don't survive. And those that see him aren't the targets."

"What do you mean?" asked Seras.

"First rule of assassins, Seras." He looked at her, his eyes belying the memories that he held in his mind. "Never worry about the one you see coming."

He shut the projector down and leaned against the table. "Sir Integra, I believe you have further orders for this mission?"

She stood, setting her gloved hands on the table. "There are three parts to this mission. The first, one Alucard will no doubt enjoy, is Search and Destroy. Standard elimination of FREAKS and ghouls."

"I do so love those words," Alucard murmured, a dreamy expression on his face.

"The second," she said as though he hadn't spoken. "Is the elimination of Valar. This one is James' solely. The rest of us are to keep the mercs and Midians from interfering." She looked at the Dhampir. "Will you be able to take him?"

The rust-coloured hair shook as he shrugged in that almost puppet-like way, as though he had to think about raising his shoulders individually for the movement. "There are rules in play about the confrontations of a Dhampir and his Sire, but unless he's been fighting non-stop for the last couple of centuries like I have, it should be a fairly even contest."

"The third is the total destruction of the base and anything that might exist that would allow anyone to summon the Devil's Hand in the future." She looked at Seras, Amon, and Robin. "That will be your primary job, but it is to be carried out last, after the fighting is over, understood?"

She got nods from each of them. "Walter," she said quietly.

The aging man stood, no sign of stiffness or diminished capacity in him. He was approaching seventy, but still looked to be fifty. He looked at each of the members congregated in turn. "I will, of course, supply you with the equipment you will need for this endeavor and serve as the mission coordinator from the base." He looked at Amon and Robin. "What will you be requiring in the way of weapons?" he asked.

Amon gave an indifferent shrug. "Just something with a bit of a punch. I don't want them still coming after me before they turn to dust. Nothing like his gun, though." he said, cocking a thumb towards Hunter.

"Understood," Walter said. "And you, Miss Sena?"

The candles on the table lit with a bright flash. "I'm good, Walter. No need for additional weapons."

Walter nodded and looked around to the Dhampir. "Just those special rounds I showed you on my first day here, along with my special little toys. And a few of those Magnesium-Phosphorus flares."

"Alucard?"

"Just spare clips and the control arts released to level one."

"I'm sure you can handle that last one on your own, Alucard." Integra looked at him with a slight smile. "Same for me, Walter. PPK and the Remington."

"Miss Seras? Will you be taking the Halconnen?"

"Yes, but Incendiary rounds only. And double the usual clips for my pistols. I don't want to run out like I did in that vision."

"I'll get on your orders straight away," he said as though they had requested sandwiches and tea and left. Integra stood again.

"Any questions?" She looked around the table. "Dismissed until 0445. We will meet in the motor pool and disembark from there."

They left, Robin and Amon together, Seras jogging slightly to catch up with Hunter. Alucard went up to her and looked at her as he put his hands on her hips. "Are you sure I can't talk you out of going?" he asked, looking into her eyes.

She looped her arms up around his neck, tilting her head back. "Yes."

"Integra, I know you are a fine warrior and a brilliant leader, but this is still going to be a dangerous..."

"Alucard, find something better to do with you lips," she said, inclining her head invitingly. "Now, please."

"Well, since you ordered nicely," he said, kissing her.

* * *

_Then_

He hurried and threw an arm over the shoulder of the man stumbling somewhat down the dark street of Helsinki. He made sure that his cloak kept his front covered. "Just keep walking, Merchant Olsen. I have a dagger at your side and at the first sign of treachery it shall be _in_ your side. Do you understand, nod your head."

The man nodded, the warm fuzz of the ale he had drunk suddenly gone.

"You and I are going to take a little side trip and discuss some things you have been party to, and you won't like the way it goes. Just turn into this alley here, that's a good boy."

The man was shoved up against the dirty wall of a building, his bright merchant's clothes becoming soiled with the refuse that had been tossed out that day. "What do you want?" he said, more upset than afraid. "Money, goods? There are easier ways to get them than this."

The man said two words that made him freeze inside. "Isabella Martinez."

"So, she sent you," he said, trying to make his voice sound as outraged as it had been a moment ago. "I thought she was dead."

"You raped her, and then planted evidence that she was a heretic, condemning her to the non-existent mercies of the Inquisition. Her friends would wish you dead so that she can rest in peace."

"And you took the job, assassin? How much are they paying you, because I will give you three times that to leave me be, to forget that you ever found me. I can make you a wealthy man."

"I am not being paid outside of supplies for the trip here. I have a deeper call than money. And if I wished to become wealthy, I would have to do no more than set a sum away in a bank and allow the interest accrue. I have many years ahead of me in my life, and I could become wealthy on ten shillings."

"Deeper call than money? What could that be?"

"Revenge."

"You there, what's going on?" a voice called from the mouth of the alley.

The cloaked man turned and saw three policemen coming down the way, the short truncheons they carried still hanging from the lanyards about their wrists.

He looked at the fat merchant and spun, his heel kicking the man across the face, knocking him to the ground. In the same motion, he grabbed the wrist of the closest policeman, twisting him around so that his arm was across his own windpipe, cutting off his air and pulled the small club from his wrist, lashing it across the second's face. The man's head spun, a wet popping sound as his neck broke. He fell to the ground, dead before his brain registered his pain. The third man had backed up, truncheon in hand, other hand scrabbling for the whistle that would summon more people to his aid.

He smiled grimly. He released the first mans wrist, planting his foot solidly in the small of his back and shoved, sending him head first into his comrades gullet, knocking the wind from him. The first man stumbled, trying to get his bearings while the third gulped greedily at the air, trying to stay on his feet.

He stepped forward as the first man stood, pulling a small knife and lunging. He sidestepped the thrust, the club catching the man in his stomach. He doubled over, air rushing from him in a great gust. The cloaked man spun, bringing the cudgel into his legs just below the knees, knocking him from his feet. Before he had fallen more than a few inches, becoming more horizontal than vertical, the assassin kicked him in the side, sending him into the wall. The sound of bones breaking and skin splitting filled the alley.

It had taken less than two seconds. He advanced on the third policeman, who still had not regained his breath. He flicked the truncheon out, trying to connect with this cloaked juggernaut that had just killed both of his comrades. A gloved hand reached up and grabbed the club as it swung, gripping it in an iron fist. A soft creaking sound started to fill the man's ears, and his weapon splintered in the grip of his attacker. He just stood there as the bits of his ruined baton fell to the ground. He looked up at the man, and nearly passed out.

The gloved hand flicked out and grabbed him by his uniform front, pulling him closer. He saw the cold, dead eyes, an inhuman grey-blue. He also saw the long eyeteeth, gleaming as he grinned.

"You're a feisty one," said the man, his voice cold, like the voice of the Devil.

Olsen regained his senses and looked to the front of the alley to see the policeman standing there, his arms hanging limply. And holding him up was his attacker, whose mouth...

Was fastened to his neck, blood dripping from the poor policeman's body. He shoved the body away, the man collapsing in a heap, weakly moving to protect his wounds.

The man closed his eyes, a look of rapture crossing his face as he licked the blood from his lips. "That was rather good." He looked at the man he had just drunk from. "I'll attend to you in a moment. Can't have witnesses."

Olsen was already stumbling down the alley, mumbling the whole time. "Vampire," he said, glancing behind to see if he was being followed. "A vampire. Oh God, save me."

"God can't help you know," a voice said from in front of him. He turned and ran headlong into the cloaked man, who gripped him by the throat and raised him a good thirty centimeters above the ground.

A sliver glint showed in the dim light of the moon. A long blade made its appearance, a jagged edge of sharp serrations up both sides of the blade. The merchant started to sob. "Please, no," he said as a warm sensation spread from his waist.

"Did you hear that from Isabella before you raped her? From her family that wept while she was thrown into the fires while still alive? Or is it that you have no wish to die at this point?"

"Yes, that's it," the blubbering man said. "Please, let me go, I'll make amends, I'll..."

"I can't do that," the cloaked form said. "You see, I promised her family and friends that you would die by my hands. I have a reputation to think of. I can't let something like a crying, pants-wetting man put me off from my job. It isn't personal, just business. I'm sure you understand."

"You'll forgive me if I take it personally," the merchant said, reality setting in. He knew nothing would free him from this creatures grasp, save his life.

"Of course. I'll make it fast, if you prefer," he said, placing the tip of the knife over Olsen's heart.

Olsen never had a chance to reply as the blade plunged in through his lungs, ripping and tearing. He lay gasping, drowning in his own blood as the cloaked form stalked off.

At the head of the alley, the third policeman had managed to climb to his hands and knees. "A pity," said Robin Valar as he stepped down hard, snapping the man's spine. "I rather liked your spirit."

He looked up and down the street. No witnesses. Good. He moved towards the docks that berthed the ship he would ship back to the mainland on.

* * *

_Now_

"You did _WHAT?!?!?_" Hunter fairly screamed.

"I asked Anderson to help us on this mission. He has a score to settle as well. He was a great asset in South America, and..."

"And he personally enjoyed hacking me to pieces, and as soon as he gets the chance to slip free of whatever word he gave he'll do it again, then move on to you and the rest of our team. No, forget it. Leave him."

"I gave my word, James. If I go back on it now, he'll do the same and sabotage our efforts somehow." She put a hand on his arm. "He'll behave as long as the mission exists. And we'll keep an eye out for treachery. It's easy to spot with him." She stepped back. "In either case, I have to go get him now anyway."

"Get who?" came the saccharine voice.

"Your fledgling invited our good friend the priest on our little jaunt." Hunter said, showing his scorn about the idea.

"Did she now?" Alucard asked, eyebrow rising. "It might be fun, then."

"You approve of it?" the half-breed asked incredulously.

"Of course. The best ally is the one you have to keep an eye on. It keeps your instincts sharp. Plus," he smiled, showing needle pointed teeth. "That dog is always an amusing guest at our parties."

Hunter sighed. "Seras, when you're there, remember the second rule of self-defense: shoot first and don't ask questions."

She nodded and phased out.

"What is the first rule?" asked Alucard.

Hunter started walking to the room he had been assigned. "Be somewhere else when the shooting starts," he said with one of his loose shouldered shrugs.

* * *

Integra stood in the motor pool, checking the barrel of the Remington pump-action she held in her hands. It had been made to her specifications, firing a round the equivalent of an eight gauge shell, a silver slug packed into the cartridge with a nine round magazine. No signs of corrosion, good. It had been a while since she had fired this gun, and was glad that it hadn't come to harm through lack of use. She had the magazine loaded and a shell in the chamber. She slung it over her shoulder and checked the two pistols she carried.

The old Walther brought back memories. It was the same gun that her uncle Richard had used to try and kill her, and had subsequently killed him as she put the round between his eyes. No need to check it beyond making sure it was secure in the holster and she had a few spare clips on her belt along with her saber.

The Beretta M93R was a bit touchy. She double-checked the machine pistol's slide and recoil spring, making sure that there would be no jams as it spewed out its three round bursts. She was intimately familiar with both of these pistols, spending an hour each day with both of them at the firing range. She tucked it into its cross-drawn holster and looked around, hearing the tread of a quiet footstep.

Alucard stood behind her, eyeing her as one would look at a sculpture of exquisite beauty. "I do believe," he said as he moved closer. "That seeing you armed as such is one of the most endearing qualities you possess."

She cocked an eyebrow at him. "Because I am capable of kicking your ass?" she asked sweetly, flicking her hair back over her shoulder.

"Of kicking _somebody's _ass, yes." He chuckled. "I doubt even you would be able to kick mine."

"I bet she could do it if she wanted to," Hunter's voice said as he came into the room, carrying his satchel. He was dressed in a simple jumpsuit, the somewhat baggy article of clothing festooned with pockets, some of which bulged. He carried his two pistols tied low on his thighs, where his hands naturally rode. He had an old Colt 1911 tucked under his left arm, two clips for it on the other side of the shoulder sling. He had a long pack slung over one shoulder. "And you'd probably let her, too."

"What have you got there, Thanatos?" purred the vampire.

"Just a little gift for father dearest," he said, setting the pack down. There was a clink like metal on metal.

"And that?" asked Integra, pointing at his right holster. There was a cylindrical object tucked in a pocket on the outside.

He pulled it free and flicked his wrist, the rod extending to a full length of just under a meter, a rounded ball at the end. "Just a good ole non-lethal weapon. I've found that this asp has been useful when I don't really need to shoot someone." He collapsed the baton and slipped it back into the pocket on his holster. He looked around. "Seras isn't back yet, I see," he commented.

Alucard shook his head. "Not quite yet. She," he broke off as he felt a booted foot hit him in the posterior. He looked behind him at Integra. She smiled sweetly and looked at him simply.

"Told you," she said simply. He gave her a mock snarl and turned back to Hunter.

"Hey, I told you she could," he said, raising his hands palms forward. "Not my fault you didn't keep an eye on her."

Walter, Robin, and Amon entered as well. Walter, dressed in a similar jumpsuit as Hunter's, wheeled a small cart that bore communications gear and the Halconnen cannon. Robin and Amon were attired in their typical gear; him in a simple shirt, vest, and pants, an overcoat draped across his shoulders; she in the high collared dress and jacket, her gloved hands tucked in her pockets. She already had her glasses on.

"Looks like the group is almost all here," said the vampire. "Now we just wait on the Police Girl."

"I guess I'll use this bit of downtime to see if I can get a hold of Vash and his group," Hunter said. "I'll meet you guys at the island, if I'm not back in time to jump with you." He phased from the area.

"Just where is your fledgling, Alucard?" asked Integra.

* * *

"You can't be serious!" Seras said as she looked at the two women that accompanied the tall priest. One, tall and slender with short blonde hair looked on with almost empty eyes over the rim of her round glasses. Her long jacket fluttered open, revealing two Desert Eagle pistols. The other, shorter and dressed in a traditional nun's habit, had a katana slung over one shoulder and nervously adjusted the glasses on her nose. Her dark eyes blinked as she looked on nervously. Her black hair fluttered in the air.

"They come with me, whelp." Anderson looked at her over the rims of his glasses. "I won't be the only one representing our organization."

"Plus, Maxwell vould have his hide if he thought that it was him going off on his own. This vay, this truce vill not be exposed." The tall woman pushed her sunglasses a bit higher up on her nose. "Right, Yumiko?"

"Right, Heinkel," the short nun said in a quiet voice. She was still playing with her glasses, almost afraid that they would fall off.

"So, ven do ve leave, demon-spawn?"

Anderson laughed that deep cackle that chilled Seras to the bone.

She sighed deeply. This deal was getting worse and worse by the minute.

* * *

"_Whoa_, _whoa_, _whoa_!" Hunter shouted, raising both his hands and his voice over the roar of the machine gun. _Never pop in on a heavily armed group of bounty hunters without warning, you idiot, _he thought ruefully. As soon as he had materialized, the priest had spun, popping a tab on the belt that crisscrossed around the cloth-covered cross he had behind his shoulder. The cloth had fallen off, and he had found himself staring down the barrel of a .50 caliber machine gun. He had barely ducked behind the stone wall of the building he was next to before the 12.74mm rounds ripped into the ground and area he had been standing on.

"Hold it, Nick," came a woman's voice. "Is that you, Mr. Hunter?"

The name came to him after a moment. "Yes, it is, Millie." He was glad that the tall woman was faster on her mental feet than the priest was with his weapon. _How does he hold that thing? _He looked at the holes the rounds had gouged. _M2 .50 caliber guns are usually vehicle mounted._

"I won't shoot." The preacher didn't sound embarrassed at firing as much as for missing. "Just don't appear out of nowhere. We've already had to take out a few of Knive's group."

Hunter eased around the corner. "Speaking of whom," he said, eyeing the large weapon in the man's hands. Was that a grenade launcher at the short arm of the cross? "I've run across him in conjunction to an investigation of an unrelated matter. I was wondering if you'd care to tag along to collect him."

The blonde haired man pushed the yellow sunglasses up on his nose, the coloured lenses obscuring his eyes. Hunter saw that there were some bits of black at the base of his hair now, along with some longer streaks of black interspersed within the locks. Odd.

"Where is he?" came the voice, quiet and firm.

* * *

_Then_

The tall man walked calmly down the aisle of the church, hands tucked behind his back. They had dealt with twenty heretics today. Most had confessed their sins and had been forgiven, and sent to God.

There was a quiet whisper of cloth on wood, and he paused, turning to look behind him. Nothing. Odd. He turned back around and found himself staring into a set of grey-blue eyes that refused to reflect the candlelight that illuminated the hall.

"Who are you?" came the quiet response. He was startled, naturally, but not frightened. What could man do to him, with God as his protector?

"Bishop Faugno?" he said in a soft voice.

"Yes, what can I do for you, my child?"

"I wish to confess my sins. Do you have the time?"

"Of course, son. When was your last confession?"

"Almost a week ago," he said, as though embarrassed to admit that.

"And what was the crime at the time?"

"Taking the Lord's name in vain."

"I assume you did your penitence?"

"Yes, Your Grace."

He nodded. "What is it you wish to confess to this evening?"

"I killed a man in Portugal. His name was Victor Martin, the Don of a small township."

The bishop was shocked at the admission of murder, and had begun speaking before the name caught up with him. "Why would you kill a man, it goes against..." He paled. "Don Martin?" he whispered, remembering the conversation they had had. About the whispers of a silent assassin stalking and killing members of European community that had been outspoken in their support of the Inquisition, to the point of carrying it along in their own home sectors. He turned and looked at the man...

But he was no longer there.

He felt the sweat starting to break out on his back and face, felt the sting as it dripped in his eyes, tasted the salt as it dripped into his mouth. He looked around, even up at the rafters high above him. The stories told that this man was like a demon, capable of great damage and horrible acts. The merchant and policemen that they had found in Helsinki had only proved to further that rumour. He wondered how many of the Don's private bodyguards had died in his defense.

"Eight," purred a voice from behind him.

He spun, thrusting the crucifix he wore out at the form of the man before him. "Back, spawn of Satan!" he shouted.

The man laughed, then reached out and gripped the crucifix as well. "Silly superstitions will be of no use here, Bishop Faugno. I assure you, no harm will come to you while you stand in God's House. On my honor."

The man relaxed only slightly. "How do I know to trust you?" he asked.

A raised eyebrow. "I swear to you on my honor and the soul of my sister that no harm will befall you while you stand in this building, Your Grace."

"Why have you come, O Evil One?"

"Such a grand title, but one I hardly deserve. Those men that I killed were deserving of their fates. They committed sins just as horrid as I, if not more so."

"How can you speak against those people? They were..."

"A rapist, a murderer of families stealing to feed their starving children, and a coveter." He cocked his head to the side. "What do your teachings say of such people?"

"That they have sinned against their souls and should beg forgiveness from..." he broke off. "You mean that, those people you killed, they..."

"Yes, Your Grace. But I have come to you for another reason."

"And what might that be?"

"Do you recall a young Gypsy woman named Miranda almost four years ago and her lover, a man by name of Robin Valar?"

"Yes, I headed the Inquisition that purified their souls. They were both buried with Christian burials..." He paled. "You're," he stuttered.

"Yes," came the soft voice. "You see, I didn't die in that pit. I died almost a hundred and thirteen years ago when attacked by a werewolf. That night in the pit was merely a psuedodeath."

The Bishop pulled the small dagger from his sleeve and drove it into the chest of the man standing before him. _Forgive me, Lord, for doing this in Your House._

He needn't have asked for forgiveness. He watched in horror as the man pulled the dagger from his chest, the wound closing rather quickly.

"You see, Your Grace," said Robin Valar. "You cannot kill what is already dead. Normal weapons will have no effect on me." He dropped the dagger on the floor.

"So you will kill me now, I suppose." Faugno raised his head slightly.

"I gave my word that you would come to no harm while in this House, Bishop Faugno. I keep my word." He looked at him with those dead eyes. "However, you cannot stay here forever. You will face your Maker soon, and answer for your crimes." He turned and walked out the door.

The Bishop sank to his knees, praying. A local guard from the militia came by, making his rounds. Faugno pounced at once.

"You! Have you others with you?"

"Three, Your Grace. Do you wish an escort?"

"Yes, to my quarters." Surely with four guards this demon would not be able to take him.

As they walked, him at the center of the quartet of guards, he felt his fear ebbing away. Yes, he would survive, and see that this monster was hunted down. He knew of templars that were dedicated to the hunting of these foul monsters. Yes, he would contact the Pope and request that a member of the Iscariot organization be sent to assist in his defense.

Then he heard the first crunch of breaking bones.

And his dreams crumbled.

Robin Valar had taken the rearmost guard and bent him backwards, the man's neck and back breaking such that he could not have felt more than a moment of pain. The two side guards rushed at the man, drawing swords while the fourth grabbed the Bishops arm and started to pull him along.

Valar ducked the swing of one sword and grabbed the wrist that held it, blocking the slash from his comrade and then broke the wrist as he removed the sword from the hand. He drove the pommel into his gut and shoved him back. His foot lashed out, landing solidly in the other man's stomach, doubling him over. Soon his head was lying several feet away. He turned to the other guard as he rushed at him, arms out to grapple him. A stiff armed block caught him on the breastbone, snapping the ribcage. As the man's momentum carried him forward, His heart was crushed behind the cracked sternum. He dropped to the ground without another word.

Robin Valar turned, following the path of footprints in the soft soil. He had given his word that the Bishop would not come to harm while he was in God's House.

But he was no longer in the church, was he?

* * *

_Now_

"What are _they _doing here?" asked Integra as Seras returned, the three members of Iscariot in tow.

"I found Anderson and asked for his help while you were kidnapped and Hunter was incapacitated. He has a personal interest in this mission." She gestured at Heinkel and Yumiko. "They just sort of tagged along like baggage."

Alucard nodded at Anderson. "Dog,"

"Monster," replied the priest.

Robin and Amon looked at the two women. "Sister, why do you carry a sword?" asked the young woman. "I thought it was forbidden by those of the cloth to perpetuate violence."

"Ah, child, so little you know of my friend Yumiko." The tall woman clapped her friend on the shoulder. "She has a split personality. As long as she keeps her glasses on, ve are all safe. But should they come of, then the beasts that ve stand across from vill be attacked by Yumi. Yumi," she said, staring at the witch over the rim of her glasses. "Is _not _a nun. Is she, my friend?"

"No," muttered the tiny Japanese woman, in a voice that almost sounded regretful.

"So, vere are ve going on this fine evening?"

Integra pulled her pistol and pointed it at the Austrian. "You are returning to the Vatican with your friends. I will not permit you to accompany this mission." Alucard drew the Jackal to back up her point while Seras got out of the way in a hurry.

Heinkel pulled her pistols while Anderson brought forth some of his blades. Yumiko wandered to the back, hand pulling at her glasses but not removing them.

Hunter returned with the four bounty hunters. He looked at the group with weapons drawn.

"I take it you all have met before," Wolfwood said, lighting a cigarette.

* * *

_Drum Fill_

I never really feel quite right and I don't know why  
All I know is that something's wrong  
Everytime I look at you you seem so alive.

Tell me how do you do it?  
Walk me through it,  
I'm following everyfootstep

Maybe on your own you take a cautious step  
Do you want to give it up?

But all I want is for you to SHINE  
Shine down on me  
Shine on this life that's burning out.

I say a lot of things sometimes that don't come out right  
And I act like I don't know why  
I guess the reaction is all I was looking for, yeah

You looked through me,  
You really knew me,  
Like no one has ever looked before

Baby on your own you take a cautious step  
Do you want to give it up?

But all I want is for you to SHINE  
Shine down on me,  
Shine this life that's burning out.

I know, I know, girl you got something  
  
SHINE (shine it on to me)  
Shine down on me (I wanna feel it)  
Shine on this life that's burning out

_Instrumental break_

Baby on your own you take a cautious step  
Do you wanna give it up?  
  
But all I want is for you to SHINE  
Shine down on me (just show me something)  
Shine on this life that's burning out (you give me something that I never  
know)  
  
SHINE (it gonna kill me if you give something away)  
Shine down on me(I wanna know what's going in on your mind)  
Shine on this life that's burning out

Don't you know I want you to SHINE  
Shine down on me  
Shine on this life that's burning out

* * *

**Preview**

_Seras: _In the next Chapter of 'There but for the Grace,' we will...

_Halconnen fairy: _Dance to Abba and the Bee Gees while eating popcorn and pretzels.

_Seras: _Oh, for the love of...Somebody get him out of here!

_Halconnen fairy: _Wait!

_Seras: _Now, in the next chapter, we arrive at the base and...

_Heinkel: _So, it is ve now, is it? Vhen did ve become part of your group, eh, vhelp?

_Yumiko: _Um, I'm, I'm n-not sure we should bother her right now, Heinkel.

_Heinkel: _Oh? Vhat is she going to do, yell at us? Tell us to leave vhile flapping her arms? I vould cut her down before she could even pull a veapon.

_Vash: _Actually, ladies, no need for violence. I was thinking that we could go and find a nice quiet place to get a drink.

_Meryl: _Vash...

_Vash: _Oh, heh, hey, Insurance Girl....

_Seras: _Oh, great God! Can't I do a preview without something going wrong?

**Chapter 12: Breathe and Fade

* * *

**

A/N: Well, just four left. I will welcome suggestions from fellow authors if they have any.


	12. Breathe and Fade

A/N: The assault begins, and some familiar scenes come to play, with some slight adjustments as well as the repeat of the There but for the Grace concept.

* * *

There was a rock sticking into his back. 

It was small, sharp, and incredibly irritating.

And it was right in the middle of the only spot where Hunter could lean his back on in the entire cave and keep an eye on all the various members of Iscariot.

He only kept a half eye on Yumiko. As long as her glasses were on, she'd be ok to turn his back to for a moment or so. Heinkel was slightly better, since she regarded him, half-breed that he was, as more an object of pity than something to be sliced to pieces.

Anderson was across the cavern doing the exact same thing, and thinking about the fact that that half-blooded monster was still up and moving after the pummeling he had given him. It was inconceivable that he could have survived that.

Vash and Wolfwood were trying to get the portable stove lit so they could cook something to eat. They were having difficulties with the igniter coil. Suddenly, it flared up, blue flames flickering in the air. Vash dropped backwards onto his rear and looked over at the young blonde sitting on a chair at the back of the cave, the two bands of ribbons gleaming in the artificial lights.

"Thanks, Robin. That's some ability. Bet it comes in handy when you go camping, huh?"

She just smiled and nodded. The comment was too funny to comment on.

Integra and Walter were setting up the communications gear, assuring that they would be able to stay in touch with the butler, who would be staying behind to coordinate all the various groups as they went about the various tasks. There had been some slight adjusting of the fire teams with the new additions. Vash and his group would be going in first to draw Knives and as many of the mercenaries out of the line of fire. Alucard, Anderson, and Integra would then go in for the Search and Destroy mission, which was the only reason the two had agreed to work together. Seras would be going with Robin and Amon, which left the two ladies of Iscariot for Hunter.

He felt the press of the equipment in his pockets. It had been a long time since he had played with toys such as these. It would be good to just cut loose with his full compliment again. There were more important things at stake here than just his conscience.

Heinkel was cleaning one of her pistols, so very similar to his own Cain and Abel, if smaller in bore and power. She seemed very comfortable with them, as though they were mere parts of her body. A good sign. A dangerous sign.

Yumiko was dozing, waking from time to time to make sure her glasses weren't falling off. He found that rather amusing, actually. He knew that she voluntarily removed them in battle, despite the blow her conscience felt afterwards.

Alucard and Seras were in the furthest back portion of the cave, sleeping in makeshift coffins made of the crates they had transported the equipment in. He thought on the blonde haired vampire. She still wore the pendant he had given her, almost as if taking it off might cause him to disappear. They had grown close over the last month, and he wondered if he might actually wind up signing back on with Hellsing on a permanent basis.

It wasn't a bad prospect. Alucard, Walter, the resources that he lacked working as a freelance agent for that enigmatic Corporation. He wondered just what they gained having him work that way, distant from the main office, communicating only through blind dumps or e-mails.

He glanced out at the mouth of the cave. The rain still fell hard, like tiny hammers trying to break into the stone that surrounded them. It was a somber mood, and the atmosphere was rather bleak.

"I still don't see why ye don't just apparate in there and slice yer father to shreds, half-breed. What could it hurt?"

He looked at the priest. He didn't like the man, and it was no secret that the feeling was mutual. "Because, if I got caught or failed, the situation would still exist. This way, we take care of all possible avenues of possibility and fact at the same time. Then, when all of our scores are settled, we can go out merry ways again and the next time we see each other, we can go back to trying to kill each other. Would that work for you?"

"Jest fine by me."

He stood, getting that damn rock out from his back. He walked to the cave entrance and stared across the kilometer of water that separated them from the island. He could barely see the haze on horizon that the spire of land made, despite the enhanced vision he had. Somewhere out there was his father, and a fight was in the making. He wondered idly who would walk away from it.

A hand landed on his shoulder. He looked to the side and saw Wolfwood standing there. "You look like you've got a lot on your mind, friend. Need to confess?"

Hunter smiled. "No offense, but the last time I went to confess it was to tell the bishop that I intended to kill him. Not exactly something you want to make a regular habit of and not something that gets you invited back for more confessions." He gazed at the tiny blot of the island. "You ever have to kill your own father?"

The solidly built man lit a cigarette. "Killed the man that raised me, but he wasn't my father. Closest I could claim would be a man named Chapel. Taught me everything I know about life and guns. Haven't looked back, really. Isn't necessary."

"I thought that way once, but those of us who fail to learn from the past are doomed to repeat it." Hunter looked at the man. "You watch your back in there, ok?"

"You too. You've got the nastiest of all the jobs."

Hunter nodded and gazed out at the island again. They'd be moving out as soon as the rain stopped and the sun went down.

* * *

The only thought that went through the guards mind was 'this is the most boring post I've ever been on. Not even a television to distract me.' He had been up in this blind for three hours now, seeing nothing for the rain and hearing even less. They were way out in the middle of the ocean, where you could spot a ship coming for kilometers. Why post guards? 

He tried again to light a cigarette and failed again. He wished something would happen.

* * *

"My friend, it has been too long." 

The tall slim man smiled as Knives stepped down and extended his hand. He took it and shook it with the slight reverence that was required of him. He was dressed in a dark suit, reminiscent of a priest's garb, with a rustlers hat sitting on his bald held. Red lenses gleamed in the glasses that sat on his nose, obscuring his eyes. He nodded and smiled as he spoke.

"I agree. It will be good to be in action again. It's been too long since I've felt the thrill of combat. I assume since you called me you have need of my talents?"

"In a sense. I have two thorns that I wish dealt with. One is my brother and the band that travels with him. The other is my current employer. I would like you to deal with my brother in such a way that they no longer present a problem. Legato will assist you in that matter."

Chapel the Evergreen smiled.

* * *

"Ready?" she asked. 

Hunter looked at her with a wry smile. "You're asking me if I'm ready to storm a facility that is manned by mercs, the possibility of ghouls and FREAKS, and face my father in a duel to the death. That is what you are asking, right?"

Seras looked at him with a smile and sat down next to him as he gazed out across the ocean. "Yeah, that's what I'm asking. I could ask some questions that are easier to answer, if you wanted me to."

"Oh, like what?"

"The airspeed velocity of an unladen swallow."

"African or European?"

She looked at him with a slight glare. "Stay out of my mind, you."

"I didn't read your mind. I watched the movie in the theatres when it came out. And it isn't exactly a new joke, either." He smiled at her. "But the sentiment is appreciated."

She leaned over, resting her temple on his shoulder. "You are going to be careful, right?"

He kissed the top of her head. "I told you I was coming out of this alive and walking on my own power, remember?"

"I know, but still. Watch your back. I don't want to loose you today. I've lost enough friends in this conflict."

He gave her a squeeze. "I'll be careful. Now go, it's almost time for you and your team to head out." Alucard and Anderson should have created quite a stir by now. He wondered how Vash was making out.

* * *

"Wolfwood, down!" 

The hail of bullets rained down as Vash swept the legs out from under the priest seconds after he fired one of his miniature rockets from his cross. The man fell just as the line of gunfire swept through where he had just been. He climbed back to his feet, swiveling the gun around and firing a hail of 12.74mm lead across the catwalk. Guards scrambled out of the way or fell wounded. Then a voice called out above the din.

"It's been a long time, Nicholas. I see you still shoot well."

Wolfwood paled. It couldn't be, not here.

Chapel the Evergreen stepped out, carrying a smaller version of Wolfwood's cross. The other mercenaries backed off, content to watch.

"Damn, I hoped I wouldn't run into him here," he said as he gazed across the way.

* * *

The Beretta M93R gave out another stuttering shout as she sprayed three rounds into the ghoul approaching her. It fell to the ground as a pile of dust as she continued on, firing as she went. Alucard was a few meters to one side, clearly enjoying himself as he blew FREAK and ghoul away with his guns or simply with his hands. Anderson had already sliced a few up like so much butter. They were making progress, but it wasn't quick, and it was eating up a lot of ammunition. 

She tucked the Beretta away now that she had some room to work in and unslung the Remington. She clicked the safety off and gripped the cut-off stock firmly in her grip, pulling the trigger. The silver slug ripped out, passing through a ghoul and into another, dusting them both. She jacked the pump of the weapon once, sliding another shell into the chamber and firing again. She would clear a small section out around her, and then reload it with the Beretta in hand.

_Enjoying yourself, Master?_

She smiled. _Are you?_

_More than I thought. Just the sheer number is a fight worth seeing at least. Behind you, _he said.

She dropped the shotgun onto her shoulder and squeezed off a round, hearing the quiet _shh _of dust settling to the ground. _Thank you, _she thought, sending him a wink.

Ah, it had been too long since she had stepped out in the field. She had forgotten how exciting this could be.

* * *

Hunter stalked down the corridor, his pistols out and held ready. Unlike Heinkel, who slipped down the corridor in a slight crouch, or Yumiko who stayed behind them in a timid fashion that was belying the truth behind her abilities, he walked down the middle of the hall at his full height. They rounded a corner and ran straight into several guards. They whipped their rifles up and the lead man demanded that they stop. 

Hunter began firing immediately, with Heinkel only a second behind him. Soon, there were only a few left standing, and they were retreating. As he went to reload his guns, he heard a quiet whisper from behind him.

"Is that normal?"

He turned, looking and seeing what Yumiko was referring to. One of the bodies lay on its back, his face missing. A foot bounced in a nerve reaction.

"Yeah, it happens sometimes." He slammed the clips into his pistols and glanced around.

"Is there anything you can do about it?"

"Vhat vould you have him do, Yumiko? Shoot him again?"

"Thank you, Frau Wolfe, but I think there is another thing I could try." He reached out and pressed his booted foot against the leg of the body and pressed down with his full weight. There was a snapping sound, and the foot stopped moving after a moment.

"Better, Yumiko-sama?" he asked.

She looked pale.

They continued down the hall, looking for the men that had escaped. There was a quiet sound behind them, and he turned and found himself staring into the barrel of an automatic rifle held in the hands of one of six very nervous guards.

"You and your companions will drop your weapons now," the guard said. His voice held a trace of fear.

Hunter held his pistols in such a way that it looked like he was complying. "Might I translate for my companions? They don't understand English."

"Do it quickly."

To Heinkel, he spoke quickly in German. He repeated the same to Yumiko in Japanese and started to bend over, setting Cain and Abel on the floor, his companions doing the same. He started to pull the old Colt out from its shoulder holster with just his finger and thumb, and set his gaze on the area behind the six guards. There was a small bit of metal tubing stacked up in a corner, part of some maintenance project. He picked a piece of pipe and used the slight telekinetic power he had to make it roll off the pile it sat on with a loud metallic clinking sound. It sounded rather like the cocking of a weapon. He touched the minds of the guards at the same time, planting a suggestion.

The guards spun, rifles firing at what they thought was a force sneaking up behind them. By the time they had peppered the area with bullets, they realized their mistake and started to turn back around.

By that time, three were already dead as Yumie's sword swept through their necks. The other three fell as she made a backhanded pass. She stood for a moment, looking around and caught sight of Hunter.

"Who's he?" she asked in a voice that was more than just a more forceful version of Yumiko's. It was deeper, almost more seductive. The sound of a woman who loved the smell of blood.

"Leave him be, Yumie. He is vith us."

"How is he in a fight?" she asked, her eyes looking him over.

"Vell enough. Come on, ve've got to catch up vith Alex and the others. There is a big fight coming up. You vouldn't vant to miss that, vould you?"

That was enough to get the small Japanese woman to sheath the sword and slide the glasses back on her nose. Yumiko seemed to be the traveling personality, holding Yumie in check until it was time to fight.

Hunter led the way down the corridor, senses on alert.

* * *

Seras and Amon fired a few shots around the corner. Up that hallway was the control room for the complex. They had to take it if they wanted to find out anything about this place, let alone how to destroy it. 

She poked her head around the corner, trying to get a head count but another hail of shots caused her to jerk it back before she could fix her gaze on anything. They had been here for twenty minutes now. There would soon be more guards approaching as backup and they had to get into that room.

"Robin, can you do anything?" she asked.

"No," the younger woman said. "I have to be able to see what I'm setting on fire, otherwise I could do more damage then I want to. However," she nudged Amon. "How about helping out, fuddy-duddy?"

He scowled at the name. He looked at Seras. "You'll have to keep the suppression fire up," he said and closed his eyes. An image formed in the air in front of him, showing the area just around the corner. It was hazy and transparent, but it was accurate down to the number of bullet holes they had pegged into the walls around the guards. Robin stared at the picture and Seras saw flames burst into being around the men. There were shouts and the sounds of flames from up the corridor. Robin and Seras burst around the corner, firing in both senses of the word, working their way into the control room. Amon came a moment or two behind, a little disoriented. His powers left him weak for a bit, which was why he rarely used them. The fight for the control room was short.

"Look at the size of this place," Seras said as she pulled up a floor plan. "At least sixty levels, most of the mountain hollowed out. This is going to take a lot of explosives to bring it down. More than the tiny bit we brought with us."

Amon pointed at a point on the map. "That's a power generator. If we rigged it right, it would take out a good portion of the lower levels. The weight of the upper levels would cause the place to collapse in on itself. We might not even have to use the explosives as more than an accelerant."

Robin spoke up from the other side of the room. "I think we have a bit of a larger problem," her voice held a tone of worry.

Seras glanced over and saw two people striding up the hall on the security monitors. One was huge, massive beyond belief. The other was mostly compact and had a sword slung across his shoulder like a walking stick he wasn't using. They were both heading for the control room.

"Time to go," she said, suiting actions to words and heading out the opposite door.

* * *

The man set the cross down on the ground, leaning on it as though it were a fence post. "How have you been, son? It's been forever. You never write or call. I'm disappointed." 

Wolfwood held his weapon on the older man. "I've been a bit busy, Chapel. I thought you'd understand that."

"I do, and as you know, Knives is my employer. It's my business to make sure that my employer is happy. I would prefer to do so without harming you." He pulled out a small green apple, holding it aloft like a man taunting a child even though some distance separated them. "Think you can take it from me this time, Nicholas?"

Vash set his hand on the priest's shoulder. "Don't, he's trying to goad you."

"I know," said the broad-chested man. "But that doesn't mean that I can't face him. He's here for me. He'll leave the rest of you alone. Go on, get going." He turned to Milly. He brushed a hand across her face, wiping the tears that had sprung to her eyes away. "Don't come back, keep an eye on Tongari. I'll be ok."

But it sounded hollow even to his ears.

When he turned back, he saw that his former teacher had separated the cross into its two halves, rifles primed and ready. He nodded at him. "Each time you hesitate," Chapel said.

"You wear down your life," Wolfwood finished. "Let's go, preacher man," he said, sliding the lever that would lock the fresh chamber of rounds into the loading chute in his weapon. "There but for the grace of God go I," he said to himself, thinking of Vash, of Meryl. Of Milly. "And into His hands should I be delivered in the end should that be today."

After that, the only sound was that of the two cross punisher weapons firing, .50 and 9mm rounds firing, rockets exploding and the sound of ricochets.

* * *

"What's the matter, Anderson?" asked Alucard. "Did you expect more of a challenge from these pitiful creatures?" 

"No," said the priest as he extracted himself from the piles of dust that had piled around him. "But I would have thought that I might have been the only one to walk away from this. I don't like working with ye."

"Nor I you," said the vampire. "But we have a common purpose, one that we should attend to before we go back to our games."

"If you two could stop this territorial pissing match," Integra said as she slid more shells into the Remington. "We could get to that point much faster. I'm going on," she said, heading down the corridor, slamming the last shell into the chamber of the shotgun before slinging it over her shoulder. Her long coat billowed behind her as she walked up the hall.

"She's got a presence about her," the Scottish man said. "How do ye put up with her?"

"It's taken a while," Alucard said. "But you get used to it after a while. I could ask the same of you and Heinkel or Yumiko."

He was moving up the corridor before the priest started to sputter an inarticulate retort. "Vile beast," was all that made sense.

He smiled. He loved irritating that man. While he respected his conviction and bravery, he was still beneath him. He would enjoy it when it was time to go toe to toe again.

Integra was coming up on a corner and eased a single eye around it, the Beretta held in her hand. She rounded the corner and fired, the sounds of falling sand reaching the vampire's ears.

_Do leave some for us, Master, _he thought wryly at her.

_Hurry up, sluggard, _was the reply.

He grinned as he pulled his pistols out again.

* * *

Hunter dropped his pistols as the slides locked back and whipped the asp out from its sleeve. It flicked out to its full length as the last three guards rushed at him with knives. Heinkel had dropped back, covering Yumiko as she bound a wound in her arm. Yumie had tried to continue on, but the Austrian woman had slammed the butt of one of her pistols into her stomach, sliding the glasses back onto her friends face while she was winded. 

He flicked the baton out and into the lead man's wrist, the impact causing his hand to reflexively open, the knife dropping out from his grip. The baton was already into the second stroke, rapping against the side of the man's head, dropping him to the ground unconscious. He whirled as the body flew to the floor, whipping the weapon into the gut of the second man, having a brief flashback to Helsinki.

While the second man stood trying to breathe with his bruised body, his partner was knocked off his feet and kicked across the large room, landing on the floor and sliding across to the far wall. Hunter turned and snap-kicked the second man, felling him as well.

"Is she going to be ok?" he asked as he put the asp away and retrieved his pistols.

"She'll live," Heinkel said. "But she vill need stitches vhen ve get out of here." She checked the clips in her pistols. "I'm almost out of ammunition."

Hunter shrugged out of his shoulder harness, tossing it to her. "Use that when you run out."

They continued up the hall and came to a room that was mostly barren except for a large podium with a device on its top.

"What is that?" Yumiko asked, pushing her glasses up her nose. It was electronic, with a small cluster of LEDs on one side.

"Offhand, I'd say it is a bomb," Heinkel said. "Not much of one, though. It vould hardly take this room out."

"No, but its brothers and sisters would," Hunter remarked. They turned to him, his gaze fixed upward. Yumiko gasped as she saw what was on the broad expanse of the ceiling.

At least thirty tiny cluster devices, each the size of a video cassette. Each wired together. Heinkel whipped her gun up to shoot the central mechanism.

"Would you mind _not _shooting at the high yield explosives? You'll set them off," Hunter said calmly. "They're wired in series, not circuit. Taking one out won't do anything more than piss off the controller. Plus, it's a sequential charge. It's designed to go off one at a time, each one adding to the explosion. Judging by the size and number, this could take out a good thirty cubic meters of mountain."

"So vhat do ve do then, half-breed?"

"Well, if you promise not to blast me for using my powers, I'll get rid of the triggering device. Oh, and I suggest you choose quickly, since it seems as thought it's going to go off in forty-five seconds."

"You promise to only do that?" asked the Austrian.

Yumiko slapped her partner across the head. "Go!" she shouted at Hunter.

Hunter grabbed the central mechanism, apparating out to the edge of the island, flinging the device to the sea.

So, it seems like the meek little nun could be pushed a bit too far after all.

He returned and shrugged. "Sure, only that." He nodded as though he were tipping a hat to the women. "Shall we, Frau Wolfe? Yumiko-sama?"

They started up the hall again. Somewhere in the depths of this mountain was his father, and the pack on his shoulder was a surprise he wanted to present himself.

He was still in those thoughts when he rounded a corner and saw Seras, Amon, and Robin running down the hall, a hail of gunfire turning the wall behind them into Swiss cheese.

And behind them were a walking mountain and a man in old style Japanese clothes.

"Ah, it seems that we don't get to leave just yet, ladies." He whipped his pistols up again and shot twice, disrupting the aim of the minigun in the mountain's hands.

Monev the Gale and Rai-Dei the Blade came on with the slow confidence that made them such fearsome opponents.

He gestured for Seras and the others to get through the room they had just vacated. He kept firing, obviously pissing the large man off. He came on faster, his weapon spewing out a hail of deadly fire. The smaller, quiet Rai-Dei just walked on calmly.

That was bad news. He remembered hunting down the Bishop with the same slow, even steps. The kind that let you know that you were dead, and that it was just a matter of time until the facts caught up with you.

As he made it to the far side of the room, he shot one of the explosives, setting off a small cascade of debris blocking the door. It wouldn't stop that monster of a man for long though. As he walked out of the room, he had already pulled three of the small spheres from a pocket of his jumpsuit.

"Vhat are those?" asked the Iscariot woman.

"These lovely little things," he said, holding up the golf ball sized weapons. "Are resonant thermite charges."

"What do they do?" asked Seras.

He held them so they could see. "Push and hold this button, slide this lever, release the button, and in fifteen seconds, they make a big boom. When added to the charges in that room, they should take care of the human force of nature." He activated the charges but held the buttons down. "Considering that this will take care of a good forty meters or so, I think we should get a good distance away." He chucked the tiny spheres as his companions ran. They rolled into the room just as he heard the crumbling of the makeshift wall he had made. The hail of the minigun came just as he leapt out of the way. Seconds later, the devices went off.

Then, the surrounding charges added to the explosion. The shockwave blew the Dhampir to the ground.

Amon looked at the ruined section of the compound. A charred and twisted minigun rolled off from the top of a pile of debris.

"That sure is a hard way to fall," he said as Hunter brushed himself off.

* * *

Wolfwood ducked behind a small storage crate and worked to clear the jam in his weapon. Of all the times for his weapon to stick. The 9mm rounds of Chapel's weapon ate into the metal box and he fired a missile at the man to distract him as he dove to the side. He landed hard, the barrel of his weapon catching on the support girder for one of the catwalks. The impact jarred the caught shell free. 

_Good old emergency repair procedure number one, _he thought as he turned and fired a spray at the man that had raised him. He wasn't trying to kill, just end the fight.

_Too much time with Needle Noggin, _he thought. _Or maybe I don't really want to kill this guy. I owe him my life, after all._

Chapel meanwhile was finding it very hard to shoot as well. _Maybe I trained him a little too well. He's come real close a few times. _He looked at the readouts on his weapons. He was almost out of ammunition. He had to end this soon.

They continued the deadly dance, and then the rifle in his left hand clicked on an empty chamber.

Wolfwood fired, catching the man in his leg, dropping him to the ground. He came up, weapon trained on the bald assassin. He saw the sweat on his forehead. He came up, and then reached into the man's jacket, pulling the apple from within its folds. He took a large bite out of it.

"Hmm, tastes good. Thanks for holding on to it for me." He turned and started to walk away.

Chapel just stared at the man. He couldn't shoot him now, he had beaten him fairly. It would be dishonourable. Then his hand shook open, and gripped the dropped rifle. He looked down, watching in horror as his arm lifted the weapon on its own volition. He knew it was Legato.

"Nicholas!" he shouted.

* * *

Vash fired the last shot from his revolver, spinning a man around into the wall, bleeding from a wound in his shoulder. He felt like he had betrayed his friend, but he also knew that it was his wish. They had to keep these goons off the preacher's back. He flexed his wrist, and a small pistol slid forward out of his left sleeve, dropping firmly into his hand. He fired a few more shots, his right hand thumbing open his pistol and sliding it into its holster, reloading it one handed with a speed loader. 

He heard a gasp, and turned to see Meryl and Milly holding their weapons on each other. He gaped, and couldn't believe his eyes.

"They will kill each other at that range, Vash." The silky voice slid across the air, and he turned to see a blue haired, golden eyed man slide forward. The other men slinked away, as though they were afraid to be near this man.

"Legato," said Vash. "I see you're still working for my brother."

"And I see you are still reticent about killing." He raised his hand and clenched it into a fist. Meryl's derringer went off, the bullets cutting twin furrows into Milly's cheek. "I don't hold that qualm, however."

"What do you want, Legato?" he asked.

"Merely to fulfill my master's wishes," the man said smoothly. "I promised him that you would suffer for eternity. And you will. You must choose. Let them die, or kill me."

"What if I choose a third way?" he said, hand firmly on the grip of his revolver.

"There is no third choice. Someone will die here, now. You may choose however." The gold eyes fastened on the tall blonde. The effect was hypnotizing. "Do you recall the present we left you at the boot maker's shop? Just before you dealt with Monev the Gale?"

Vash gritted his teeth. He had been blamed for that man's death, and then the small village had been destroyed by the behemoth's rampage, half the town injured or killed by the man.

"I have much to atone for, and you have the option to make me pay for it," the man said, his fist still in the air. He gazed across the short space between him and his opponent. "Or will it require the death of one of your friends? The short one? The tall one? Or the priest, perhaps?"

Vash blanched. Wolfwood. He just realized that the dim sound of the man's cross hadn't been heard for several minutes, nor had he rejoined the group.

"Vash, just shoot him," Meryl said, a fresh pistol in her hand. She was visibly trying to lower her hand, but it wasn't listening to her. The fear in her eyes was visible.

"Yes, Vash. Shoot me." The manic glee in the man's voice was evident.

"Why are you in such a hurry to die?" he asked.

"Because it will accomplish my master's purposes. You have thirty seconds to make your choice. At the end of that time, someone will die. Your scene is concluded. Soon, the final curtain will rise."

Vash's mind spun as he tried to think of a way out of this neat little trap.

* * *

Integra looked on as Alucard shoved his hand through the chest of a ghoul, dissolving it instantly. "Show off," she said. He just shrugged, brushing his gloves together. 

Anderson was chuckling with his maniacal cackle as he cut two ghouls apart, flinging a bayonet out to skewer a FREAK. He was in heaven, fulfilling his purpose on Earth. None of these monsters would ever threaten innocent children. He began speaking to himself as he filleted another ghoul.

"Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I shall fear no evil, for Thou art with me," he sliced another ghoul apart.

"And now, O Kings, be ye wise, be admonished, ye judges of the Earth. Serve Him with fear," a FREAK fell before him.

"Rejoice with trembling. Kiss the Son, lest He be angry," three more fell.

"And ye perish in the way, though His anger burns but a little. And should ye remember, as regards me, what life is. Wherefore hast thou created all the children of men to be vanity?"

He spun, blades hacking ghouls apart. "What man liveth, and shall not see death? Shall he deliver his soul from the power of Sheol?"

Integra looked on. "I'll say this," she said as she blew the last ghoul facing her to dust. "He's enthusiastic."

"Yes," said the vampire as the priest wiped dust from the blade in his hand. "Very. And a delight to toy with as well, but now is not the time. There are few imitations left, and we are nearing the crux of the matters at hand."

Anderson looked at the No-Life King as he said that. "What do ye mean, monster?"

Alucard looked up, his eyes closing. "Events are spinning quickly now. The crucial, pivotal moments are falling into place. Valar is waiting for something. I can sense his patience."

Integra wondered just what he was waiting for. When the Hellsing house had been attacked, it had been all she could do to keep from going crazy, from leaping into action.

Whatever it was, he was willing to let his minions die to wait for it.

* * *

The pistol fired with a sharp crack, and Legato fell to the ground. Vash stood there for a second, eyes not seeing, mind not registering. _Rem, I'm sorry, _he thought. _But I had no other choice. _He lowered his pistol and just stared for a moment. He felt Meryl wrap her arms around him as a few tears leaked from his eyes. Then he heard Milly moan from the other room. 

_Wolfwood, _he thought. _Oh, God, Wolfwood._

He rushed back into the room that they had vacated and looked at the sheer destruction the two men had wrought. Wolfwood was kneeling, leaning against his cross. He had a large spot of blood coating his stomach. He moved like he didn't notice it, pulling a cigarette from his jacket. He was talking to himself.

"I hope you don't mind me barging in like this. In spite of the profession I've chosen, I've never actually made a confession before. It's these times we live in, I did what it took to protect the children at any cost. That's how I always justified my actions. I took many people's lives, all that time believing there was no other way. My sins are so heavy. Too heavy, too heavy to ever atone for." Milly fell to her knees, crying as he spoke. Vash raced up to him and laid him back, trying to assess the wound. Wolfwood kept talking.

"Yet, somehow I feel happy, at peace with myself today. It really can be done. Once you stop to think about it, there are plenty of ways to save everyone. Why didn't I ever listen to him? Why didn't I see that before it was too late?" As he talked, he lit the cigarette, oblivious to the world around him. "That tastes good," he murmured.

"Nick," Milly whispered. "You know those things are bad for you."

"I'm sorry, honey," he said, the cigarette falling from his mouth. For a moment, Vash thought he had said it in response to what she had said, then as he saw the glazed look in his eyes and realized that nothing the priest was seeing or hearing was in this world.

"If I am reincarnated, I'd like to live somewhere where life is easier. Somewhere with more peaceful days. Somewhere with no stealing, no killing. Eden. In Eden, I could live happily with him, and the girls," he struggled, trying to sit up. Vash held him down, trying to bind the wound.

"I'm not ready yet! There's still so much left to be done. I want to stay, with them! I don't want to die! I'm a man!" His struggles ease. His voice was softer, almost non-existent, his eyes focused on something above him. "Was everything I did in my life a mistake? Would I be wrong now to ask for your forgiveness? I did not want to die this way!" He fell silent as his eyes closed.

The only sound in the room was that of the women's sobs, and Vash worked to bind the wound. He felt tears stinging his eyes as well.

"You arrogant ass," he said as he tied the bandages off. "Why'd you send us away?"

If they didn't get him out of here soon, he'd die from his injuries. He'd lost a lot of blood.

Yet another crime for Knives to pay for.

* * *

_Drum Fill_

I never really feel quite right and I don't know why  
All I know is that something's wrong  
Everytime I look at you you seem so alive.

Tell me how do you do it?  
Walk me through it,  
I'm following everyfootstep

Maybe on your own you take a cautious step  
Do you want to give it up?

But all I want is for you to SHINE  
Shine down on me  
Shine on this life that's burning out.

I say a lot of things sometimes that don't come out right  
And I act like I don't know why  
I guess the reaction is all I was looking for, yeah

You looked through me,  
You really knew me,  
Like no one has ever looked before

Baby on your own you take a cautious step  
Do you want to give it up?

But all I want is for you to SHINE  
Shine down on me,  
Shine this life that's burning out.

I know, I know, girl you got something  
  
SHINE (Shine it on to me)  
Shine down on me (I wanna feel it)  
Shine on this life that's burning out

_Instrumental break_

Baby on your own you take a cautious step  
Do you wanna give it up?  
  
But all I want is for you to SHINE  
Shine down on me (Just show me something)  
Shine on this life that's burning out (You give me something that I never  
know)  
  
SHINE (It's coming down on you if you can show me the way)  
Shine down on me (I wanna know what's going in on your mind)  
Shine on this life that's burning out

Don't you know I want you to SHINE  
Shine down on me  
Shine on this life that's burning out

* * *

**Preview**

_Wolfwood: _Well, _that _sucked.

_Seras: _Didn't you just die?

_Wolfwood: _Your point is?

_Seras: _Oh, never mind. In our next chapter, the assualt takes on a deadly aspect as...

_Pip: _Hey, Vicky, have you seen my hat? I'd swear I left it at the manor.

_Seras:_ Pip? What are you doing here?

_Pip: _Asking about my hat. I mean, I know I've been dead for a while, but that doesn't mean I don't want to look good in the afterlife.

_Seras: _What is going on here?

_Author: _I just enjoy messing with your previews. I don't want the readers to get an idea of what's going to happen too soon.

_Seras: _Blimey, then why do I have to do them?

_Author: _Authenticity and humour.

_Seras:_ You're just as bad as Master ever was.

**Chapter 13: Tomorrow's Past**


	13. Tomorrow's Past

A/N: It's drawing to the conclusion, and nothing will be as it seems. A bit of remembering of some AxI that occured in a previous chapter.

* * *

James Hunter leapt across the room, the bullets tracking after him. He felt one pass through his leg, the rail of fire as nerves and skin were torn apart, the cold ice sensation as they began to mend themselves. He hit the ground on the far side and rolled, coming up in a crouch and rolling the small sphere towards them. He used his momentum to carry him into another roll, coming to a stop behind a small support girder. The resonant charge detonated, the shock wave rattling a few pebbles free of the ceiling. He looked back. 

They wouldn't be bothering anyone anytime soon.

He pulled his pistols and made sure the pack was still on his back. He continued forward, eyes and ears alert. He had left Heinkel Wolfe and Yumiko Takagi with Seras Victoria, Amon, and Robin Sena for added firepower. He asked them to get to the control room and see what it would take to rig it to blow. He continued on, knowing that Rai-Dei was still out there, and it would take an assassin to kill an assassin, and he didn't want to worry about their wellbeing when he fought the man.

He just hoped that he would be the one that walked away.

He heard the swish a nanosecond before he bent at the hip, and he saw the line carved into the rock at the height of his neck. He kicked straight backwards, connecting with a solid mass and heard a grunt as it gave slightly. He spun, looking on as the Japanese assassin caught his breath quickly. The pale colour of the man's robes seemed in opposition to the violent occupation he had chosen, perhaps as a form of camouflage.

"Rai-Dei the Blade," Hunter said, bowing out of respect.

"James Hunter, once Robin Valar, of old the _Asesino de los asesinos_. You are a worthy opponent." He held his sword in a light grip, showing the intimacy with which he was associated with the weapon. "For one of us, this will be a good day to die."

_At least he isn't completely philosophical like Goemon was, _he thought as he set himself. He pulled the asp out and flicked it to its full length, knowing that the metal rod would stand up to the harsh clash against the steel of the other man's sword.

As he began to defend himself, he allowed a small corner of his mind to flash back on the one caper he had partaken in with Arsene Lupin III. He wondered what the man was doing now.

* * *

"Fujiko, would you just stop for a second and let me explain?" the slim man called out. 

The woman kept walking, not willing to let him sweet talk her this time. She looked at the man sitting in a serene pose on the couch. "What do you think, Goemon?"

The man shrugged, his shoulders barely moving. "This is not my battle."

The slim man turned to the other man in the room. "Jigen, help me out here."

"Forget it, Lupin. You know my stance on women." He left the _particularly that one _off out of some sense of decency.

The slim man ran a hand though his hair, ruining the usually smooth bowl cut. "So I took the necklace. I am a thief, after all."

"It was my grandmother's!"

"And your mother wouldn't give it to you despite the fact you asked her nicely. I thought it would be a nice Christmas gift."

"It's the middle of August!"

"Birthday?"

"Is in March," she said, glowering at him. How dare he try that tactic!

"Obsessive-compulsive kleptomaniac?"

"Obviously," she remarked.

"I love you?"

"Forget it, Arsene. You're on the couch tonight."

The man sighed as the door to the bedroom slammed.

"Just as well. At least I won't have her sticking her cold feet into my back in the middle of the night."

* * *

Integra Wingates Hellsing levelled the shotgun at the door and pulled the trigger. She passed through the entryway and gazed around, reaching up and pulling down the Holy Writ that was posed over the door, tearing it in half. 

Alucard entered the room now followed by Alexander Anderson, his gaze sweeping across the various tables and benches in the room. Several of the worktables held racks bearing large quantities of test tubes.

And in each test tube was a bit of silicone.

FREAK chips. Hundreds of them.

The largest concentration of the damned things she had ever seen.

"So this is where the Millennium group moved their supplies to after we raided them," she said as she looked about the room.

"Apparently," drawled the priest as he came in, glowering at the abominations of science. He hated the fact that these things created monsters, hated the fact that the group he served loyally had aided in the construction. He brought a bayonet up to sweep through a rack when Integra placed a hand on his arm.

"Shh," she said, her head cocked as though listening.

The Scotsman listened. "I dinnea hear anything."

The vampire was turning his head this way and that as well. "No, I heard it too, then silence. I don't know what it could be," he cut off suddenly, his eyes darting to a corner of the room. It was rotating.

Three guns and two pairs of knives were already coming about to aim at the spot. A large man stepped out, his long hair and aristocratic features identifying him at once.

"Erik Valar, I assume," Alucard said, holding his weapons steady.

"You would be correct," the man said in a suave, silky voice. He bore no weapon and stood with one hand gripping the opposite wrist, his hands dangling about his hips. He was in no way making a threatening move or even seeming a threat. Something was very wrong.

Integra tightened her grip on her shotgun. She knew something was going to happen and soon. He wouldn't have shown himself otherwise. She found herself raising the weapon slightly to point at his chest.

"Miss Hellsing," Valar said. "So nice to see you once again. And you as well, Father Anderson. I trust you both have been well since we parted last?"

The gleam of silver flickered in the light of the room as the bayonet slammed into the wall to the vampire's side. Alucard grinned. He knew the priest hadn't missed so much as Valar had stepped to the side just before it had hit him.

But it gave him ammunition to use later on to taunt the man. It would be marvellous fun.

"Ye damned monster, how dare ye trick a man of God into doing your dirty work?"

"Rather simple, actually," the aristocrat said, walking among the racks of chips as though strolling through a garden or the shelves of a wine cellar. "You wanted a chance to hit Hellsing. I gave you the chance. The rest was just you fooling yourself. And I have to thank you again for bringing me the two subjects I need for my little experiment later tonight."

That brought her shotgun up to point straight at his head. "Still trying to open the Seals, are we? Too bad you're on the wrong end of the gun." She started squeezing the trigger as he spread his hands, and suddenly she saw Alucard stumble and Anderson grip his head in pain. She looked around and saw several panels had slid open, revealing both Holy Writs and a high frequency sonic amplifier. The Writs dampened Alucard's power and the high frequency waves pounded at the priest's enhanced hearing, so close to that of a werewolf.

She turned to face the vampire across the room from her again. "Too bad you've just trapped yourself," she said as she pulled the trigger.

Test tubes shattered and wood splintered, but to her surprise, Valar merely faded from view for a moment, a sharp cackle escaping his lips.

"A little trick I learned from a witch in my employ. It seems that while my vampiric powers are dampened, using external magic is still permitted. So I can still do this," he said, gesturing with a hand in a negligent manner, as though talking about some trifling detail.

She felt her pistols fly from their holsters, followed by the sabre and her small knife. Her shotgun was ripped from her grip at the same time as Alucard's pistols and the two blades Anderson held in his limp hands. The priest was kneeling on the floor, trying in vain to block the noise that only he could hear from his ears. A vein in his forehead started to stand out from his struggle.

She stepped back, and tried the only option left to her. "Situation A, release level one. The Cromwell approval is authorized. Your master Hellsing commands it."

Alucard stepped forward, his hair growing and his smile going evil, but that was as far as the change occurred. His face twisted with disbelief as he tried to call upon his various powers and failed. Valar laughed.

"Ah, how the mighty have fallen, eh Vlad?" The double-fanged vampire paced around a table, and for the first time Integra noticed the trace of accent in his voice.

The same trace that Alucard spoke with.

The accent of the noble house of Walachia.

"I've plotted your downfall for centuries, ever since you stole Jasmine from my grasp, making her one of your 'brides,'" he said, the dual fangs in his mouth made him look like a frenzied beast. "And then the Major came about with the perfect plan, and I aided him. And Rip. Dear old Rip,' he sighed.

Integra looked on in realization. He didn't want her just because of her blood. It would be a part in his defeat of Alucard, to make him feel like a worthless pet that failed to protect his master. In retaliation for stealing a woman from him.

Two women, if you wanted to count Rip Van Winkle as a woman.

Suddenly, she recalled the second half of the ritual Hunter had described to her upon her return.

"A willing sacrifice," she murmured. _Oh God, what a mistake we've made._

_We've just given him both of the things he needs the most.

* * *

_Seras Victoria poked her head around the corner. _Damned FREAKS, _she thought. Just when things started going right, they run into a little bit of a problem. 

Well, seventy problems.

All spread out across the generator room.

Armed.

Heavily.

To the teeth.

And in the middle of the room stood a mountain of a FREAK, easily seven feet tall and built like a professional wrestler. He pointed this way and that, ordering the placement of guards and such.

Her palms itched, wanting to feel the weight of her Gravedigger in one and her Socom in the other. She felt the muscles in her legs tighten, preparing her to spring forward and attack. She felt all of the familiar signs of the onset of bloodlust, but she forced them back down, relaxing. She had four other people she had to worry about now.

She felt the cool metal of the pendant James had given her several days ago and her mind automatically flashed to him. She wondered if he was ok, if he needed help. She couldn't call to him, the complex had Holy Writs scattered about in some places, dampening down her abilities. She clenched her fists, feeling her nails bite into her palms. She forced them to shrink back to their normal operating size. Her red irises roved across the room one more time, looking for anything that would be of use.

A plan, she had to make a plan. She intended to hold James to his promise, and to do so, she had to walk out of this alive as well. Have Robin saturate the room?

No, not with all the flammable materials. Too risky. And they didn't have enough time to take them out from the doorway, not if they wanted to get it done cleanly, without backup being called in.

She glanced about again, and her eyes fell on something and she smiled.

"Heinkel," she called quietly. "Come here and tell me if I'm seeing things."

The Austrian woman came up on the other side of the door and looked where the blonde vampire pointed. She smiled.

"Indeed, he is quite stupid. Vould you like to count down, or just dive in vith guns blazing?"

Seras took a quick stock of her inventory. While she was still quite good on ammunition, she knew that the other woman wasn't. "Count down from five on my mark," she said, pulling the Gravedigger free.

"Mark," she said rising and entering the room, firing. Three FREAKS fell, another, two more.

Another shot rang out from behind her. She heard the metallic _spang _as the bullet struck its target, followed by the loud roaring hiss of the escaping steam that blanketed the room in its obscuring fog, drowning out the pained scream of the large FREAK that had been standing by the high pressure line.

Seras smiled. She could work in this environment. She'd had three years getting used to her senses. These fakes probably didn't know what they were capable of. She blended with the mist, solidifying only when attacking. Soon, as the steam cooled and dissipated, there were only twelve FREAKS left. She stood and reloaded her Gravedigger and was about to call the others in when a huge paw clamped onto her shoulder and threw her across the room into the boiler. The impact dented the side of the device and she felt herself drop to the ground like a limp rag.

_What the hell? _She shook her head to clear the ringing and saw the mountain range stalking her, advancing quickly, his blistered face already healing over. _Aw bloody hell._

She stood, bringing her pistol around to fire only to see the FREAK erupt in a burst of flames, burning down to nothing almost immediately. She saw Robin in the room, nodding at her as she turned back to the fight, her hands still tucked in the pockets of her jacket, eyes narrowed and head lowered and slightly forward as she focused on a ghoul that got too close.

Heinkel and Yumie were in as well, attacking with reserved precision and wanton abandon respectively. The fight was short at best and abysmally easy at worst.

_They must not have been the cream of the crop, _she thought as she holstered her pistol again.

She pulled the small radio earpiece from her pocket, tucking the bud inside her ear and positioning the microphone. "Walter, can you still hear me?"

_"Of course, Miss Victoria. What is it you need?"_

"What kind of explosives did you pack, exactly, outside of the incendiary rounds for the Halconnen?"

_"I brought several large thermite charges. I'm not sure how large a radius they will produce, given that they are still rather new to me. I have twenty of them."_

She glanced around the room, wondering how much damage twenty of those charges could do. She had seen the destruction the tiny grenades of James' had made. She had asked him what if he didn't want to make a huge crater when he used them. His reply had been simple and as cold as his eyes had turned.

_"Then you don't use a resonant charge, and certainly not one with thermite as the agent. Thermite has two settings: On and Off. And something about the way a resonant charge detonates makes the On setting a lot bigger."_

She felt the wonder and worry creep up inside again, like the trails of icy worms in her stomach. She had a rising fear, a sense that something big was about to happen, something horrible.

And she hated it when she got those feelings.

So far they had been turning out right.

* * *

As he ducked the slash, he kicked out, connecting with the man's knee. 

Unfortunately, Rai-Dei was already stepping back to prepare for the next swing, so all he did was make the knee lock instead of break like he had wished. He got the asp up in time for a block in the high right position of the outer ring of defence.

He stared across at the other assassin. So far, they had fought each other to a standstill, stalemating each time. He was stronger and faster, but Rai-Dei was more skilled in the art they were fighting at. They were effectively standing at square one. He knew that eventually, the human would tire and he would win then, but how long that would be was anyone's guess. He didn't have time to play around forever.

"You are a great warrior, James," the Japanese man said. "It is a pity we meet as foes. In another life, I would have called you friend."

"Maybe we'll meet in that other life." He stepped back; clearing his baton from the _katana _sword, looking his opponent in the eye, knowing that his gaze had gone from the bright grey-blue it normally was into the mostly transparent, dead eyes that he wore when he was using his abilities. They were a fearsome sight, but the gaze in the samurai's eyes was the same.

The eyes of someone who wouldn't quit until the task was done or he lay dead.

He lowered the asp, and extended his hand in a gesture of supplication. "Why do we have to do this? It would result only in the death of a great fighter. It would be a sad waste."

Rai-Dei looked at the hand, and took it, shaking it with a firm grip. "True, but falling in battle against a worthy opponent is a death fitting to one of our position. Come, Dhampir, and give it your all."

Hunter sighed, and met the oncoming attacks with the same results as before.

* * *

She pushed the locking button on the control panel of the device she knelt over. An LED blinked once, twice, three times, then glowed a steady red. She nodded and stood, looking around the generator room as Heinkel and Amon set up the other charges in spots that would do the most damage. 

Seras pulled out the comm headset again, and flicked the switch on the device in her pocket.

"James, do you copy? Over," she said.

Static met her, mocking her with its hiss. She tried twice more, and then a voice broke into the frequency.

_"Commander Victoria?"_

She thought for a moment, trying to place the woman's name. Meryl, that was it.

"What is it, Meryl?"

_"We could use some help up here. Nick just had a fight with one of Knives' men and is hurt pretty bad. If we don't get him out of here soon, he's going to die. Milly is in bad shape too, mentally."_

The vampire thought for a moment. She could apparate them back to the base, where Walter could help tend the wound and keep them from coming to harm. Or, while taking longer, she could take them back to headquarters, where the medical staff could help them.

She got Amon's attention. "I've got to go and help Vash's group out. You ok for now?"

He nodded.

She was gone before his head even started to rise again.

* * *

Integra opened her eyes, feeling pain as she did so. She was upright, manacled to a wall in a chamber hollowed out from the heart of the mountain. On the floor was a giant symbol, a pentagram with various glyphs and sigils drawn about it in dust. Across the room, Alucard was similarly bound, several Writs around him to dampen his powers. 

Of Anderson, she saw nothing.

Nothing that could be called a preist, that is. She could see the gloved hand, fingers still twitching, on the edge of her vision. What little that was in her field of view made her glad she couldn't see the rest. She wasn't sure she wanted to see it.

She looked at the means she was bound with. Iron manacles at her wrists and ankles, an iron band about her stomach. She was on a face of rock that angled forward slightly, so that she was above the ground and facing it.

A pair of feet came into her vision. She didn't have to look up to see whom they belonged to.

"I got out once, I'll do it again," she said, her tone acid.

"Ah, but there isn't a jailor here whose neck you can snap." He looked at her, his eyes wild with glee. "In a matter of hours, you will be part of a ritual that will help me to cleanse the world of the filth that walks it."

She snorted. "I don't suppose that 'filth' would happen to be the FREAKS, would they?"

_Alucard, _she called out in her mind. _Wake up you smarmy bastard. NOW!_

"No, sadly. You see, there are too many of your kind that have the fortitude to stand up to us. While I would prefer draining each of you individually, that would take far too much time. So I'm giving up the taste of your blood in exchange for guaranteed success."

He pulled a small pocket watch out and looked at it. "But without the others, I'm afraid I can't start just yet. Seems I'll have to entice them to join us." He left, leaving Integra to wonder just what he meant.

Alucard stirred.

_Are you ok? _

He raised his head. _If you count the headache as normal, yes. _He glanced at the Writs. _It seems as though they are meant to keep me from escaping instead of communicating with you. I wonder why._

She shivered. _I don't want to know. It probably isn't good news for us. Can you get free the old fashioned way?_

_No, _he thought. She saw him struggle against his bands. _There's some sort of binding spell as well as the iron. More than I can struggle against with the Writs up._

_How are we going to get out? _she thought to herself.

_There is always a way, _he thought at her, a mental caress drifting through her mind like his hand cupping her face. _And James and the Police Girl are still out there. It isn't over yet._

_I know, _she replied. _But just in case, I, _she hesitated.

She felt more than saw the eyebrow raise. _But?_

Her mind was awhirl with emotions, thoughts, fears, doubts. It was odd that she had to sort them out to make any sense of her own thoughts. One thing was clear, however.

The prospect of loosing the No-Life King, chained to the wall across from her like Prometheus on the edge of the world, was scaring her more than her own impending death.

And that thought scared her as well.

_I, _she tried again, and again hesitated.

She felt his smile, the genuine smile, not the insane one he so often plastered across his visage. _It's ok, I feel it as well._

She craned her neck, trying to meet his eyes while he did the same. She wanted to see him, to look at him more than ever.

_I love you, _she thought, flinging caution to the winds. She stood a good chance of dying tonight anyway.

_And I you, Integra Fairbrook Wingates Hellsing. Which accounts for the trouble I give you._

She smiled. _You always did focus on me more than anyone else in the manor._

_It's been a long time since I courted someone. _A mental shrug. _So I went with the only thing I could think of. Our sparring was often the only enjoyable part of the evenings._

_Agreed, _she thought. _And I always wondered why I let you get away with so much insubordination._

_Like you could have done anything about it in the first place._

She smiled a grin that she had learned from him, lacking only the fangs.

_I seem to recall you saying something contrary to that the other night, O Immortal One._

She felt his slight blush in her mind. _Need I remind you of the noises you made later on in that same discussion, Sir Integra? Perhaps you should be the one called Kitten, not the Police Girl._

His laughter echoed in her mind as she blushed. But at least they could communicate. It made the imprisonment bearable.

She shut her eyes, and pictured her chambers at the manor. Alucard joined her in her minds eye, using what little of his illusionary ability he still commanded to make it seem real.

She walked up to him, and wrapped her arms about his neck, kissing him unrestrained, with the fire that only those who knew it would be the last kiss could muster. She forced him back against the wall of her room, holding him there while she drank in every little bit about him. The warmth of his body; the sound of his breathing; the smell of his body, that old book smell that reminder her of her days in study; the taste of his lips, his tongue as it probed her mouth.

His arms enveloped her, pulling her close and holding her there. His hands slid to her waist, and slowly pulled her shirt from it's tucked in position, just as he had that night at the manor.

She let the reality of her situation flee momentarily as she relived the first night they spent together in her minds eye, each touch and sensation as real as the first time she felt them.

* * *

Hunter brought the asp around in a parry, his hand high and the shaft pointing down. As his weapon cleared the blade of his opponent, he rotated his wrist and swept down before Rai-Dei could react. The blow connected just above the man's elbow, a snap and a wet popping sound emanating from the arm. A grunt of pain was all he heard the samurai make. 

_Damn, he's tough, _Hunter thought. His arm had to be broken, and the popping sound was the arm pulling free of the socket from the impact. As the man straightened, his arm hanging limply at his side, Hunter was ready for the next attack.

It never came as a gunshot came from behind the Japanese man. He fell to his knees and looked down at the tiny spot of blood that began to seep through his clothes.

Millions Knives came forward, a smoking revolver in his hand. "Never send a spider to do a Plant's job," he said. Hunter noticed the similarities between Vash and this man. The builds, the facial features, the slim noses, the not quite human scent.

But missing was Vash's kindness, his compassion. Even the hair seemed colder, crueler. His revolver was a twin to the Mateba the bounty hunter carried, plated in matte black chrome.

He looked at the half-breed as he lowered the pistol. "You are the son of Valar, are you not?"

"I am," Hunter said, getting ready to leap out of the way of the bullet that was sure to come.

"Can you stop that madman?"

That brought him up short. "I'm not sure. I'll have to go and actually face him to find out."

The man across the way thought for a moment. "Too risky. I guess it's up to me then." The revolver came up again. "Farewell."

The sharp sound of a Mateba came, three shots in all. But no lead, no silver ripped into his body. No searing pain of any sort. Instead, Knives dropped to his knees, gripping his shoulder and hip, his face contorted in agony.

Behind him stood Vash, lowering his pistol. He had a look of pure anger on his face, and his eyes were glowing with an unearthly blue hue.

_Didn't think he was human, _thought Hunter. The glow faded from the blonde's eyes.

"He has a lot to pay for, most recently Wolfwood's injuries. Your friend took him back to the manor for medical attention."

Good old Seras. Helping those that needed it most.

"How bad was he hurt?"

"Bullet wounds in his lower abdomen. Blood loss was the worst part." He looked at Knives. He had passed out in pain. He began to bind the wounds.

"Get going, you've got a job to do," the bounty hunter said as he stood, hoisting his brother's body onto his shoulders.

Hunter nodded and headed for the centre of the mountain.

* * *

Seras fired again and again, moving backwards as the ghouls and FREAKS pushed forward. She didn't know where they had come from, just that they were coming in force. Amon was a little further up the corridor, carrying a dazed Robin, and Heinkel and Yumie were striking out as much as they could. Heinkel was using Hunter's Colt now, out of the Desert Eagle rounds. She was shooting with as much conservation as she could since she only had four clips total to use. 

Yumie was in heaven. She swung her blade out to the side, sweeping through multiple targets. She let loose a chilling cry and dove into the center of the group closest to her, hacking and stabbing.

_She's as bad as Anderson, _thought the vampire, slamming another clip into place and blasting away. They were coming up on a chamber now, and with Robin coming to, they could hold them off until they could pick them all off.

"Welcome, my friends!" a voice boomed out from behind her. A voice she recognized.

Turning, she wasn't surprised to see Erik Valar standing behind her on a raised platform.

What surprised her was Alucard and Sir Integra bound to the walls to either side of him.

_If they're there, then where's..._she saw the disembodied hand on the ground and answered her own question.

She pointed her pistol at the vampire. "Let them go," she said, hearing how cold her voice was.

The aristocratic vampire raised an eyebrow in surprise. "You dare command me? How did you come by the fortitude to do something so bold, so daring, so _stupid?" _

He walked towards her, and for the first time she remembered that the only reason she had stood eye to eye with him at the ball was because she was in disguise.

Again, the icy claws of fear churned in her stomach.

_James,_ she called with her mind, hoping he could hear her.

Valar reached her and stood with the barrel of her pistol touching his chest. He reached out and cocked the hammer back.

"Shoot, go ahead. It won't help you any. I am a No-Life King, and the weapons that you and your friends bear cannot harm me. Not even the Craft-user could kill me."

He turned and walked away, his arms sweeping out in a grand gesture.

"Why are you trying to stop me? I am doing this for _our kind, _Seras Victoria. We are the rightful masters of this planet, not those mortals that stand with you. Why is it that my actions are deemed evil, vile? Where is the line between you and me that makes you heroes and me a monster? What is it about me that makes you so righteous?"

"Because just maybe it isn't all about you, jackass."

All the eyes in the room turned to the far end, where a battered looking Hunter stood, unhooking his gun belt and emptying his pockets. The long pack he had carried was now leaning against him, and his eyes were cold, dark.

"Now you're in trouble," Seras said, smiling.

"Ah, my son. The noble warrior, all prim and proper and right. Or are you?" The vampire looked askance at his son. "Have you forgotten that time in the aftermath of the Inquisition? Those nineteen people?"

"I haven't forgotten," the half-breed's voice was quiet, cold. "But that is the past, not the present."

"As it should be, but isn't it true that yesterday's future is tomorrow's past? All things are in motion, my son, and you can't possibly stop me now."

Hunter opened the pack he had carried for the entire mission, withdrawing two long double-edged swords. He looked at his father and smiled the smile of a wolf that scented blood.

"Oh, but we have unfinished business to attend to first."

He tossed one of the swords to his father, who caught it easily.

"You have something of mine: the lives of my friends." He raised the sword and set himself.

"I intend to take them back."

* * *

_Drum Fill_

I never really feel quite right and I don't know why  
All I know is that something's wrong  
Everytime I look at you you seem so alive.

Tell me how do you do it?  
Walk me through it,  
I'm following everyfootstep

Maybe on your own you take a cautious step  
Do you want to give it up?

But all I want is for you to SHINE  
Shine down on me  
Shine on this life that's burning out.

I say a lot of things sometimes that don't come out right  
And I act like I don't know why  
I guess the reaction is all I was looking for, yeah

You looked through me,  
You really knew me,  
Like no one has ever looked before

Baby on your own you take a cautious step  
Do you want to give it up?

But all I want is for you to SHINE  
Shine down on me,  
Shine this life that's burning out.

I know, I know, girl you got something  
  
SHINE (Shine it on to me)  
Shine down on me (I wanna feel it)  
Shine on this life that's burning out

_Instrumental break_

Baby on your own you take a cautious step  
Do you wanna give it up?  
  
But all I want is for you to SHINE  
Shine down on me (Just show me something)  
Shine on this life that's burning out (You give me something that I never  
know)  
  
SHINE (It's coming down on you if you can show me the way)  
Shine down on me (I wanna know what's going in on your mind)  
Shine on this life that's burning out

Don't you know I want you to SHINE  
Shine down on me  
Shine on this life that's burning out

* * *

**Preview**

****

_Seras: _In the next chapter, the final showdown between father and son, and all of the secrets of the _Anusan _are revealed...

_Hunter: _Why are you pausing?

_Seras: _Because it's usually right about here that something happens to mess up my preview.

_Walter: _I could still trade you some tissue paper for the preview.

_Seras: _I'm not going for that one again, Walter.

_Enrico Maxwell: _What about museum hopping? The offer is still open.

_Brandon Heat: _Don't I show up anywhere but this damn preview?

_Nick Knight: _Hey, at least you made an appearance in the text. I was just a side note.

_Hunter: _I see what you mean.

_Author: _I hoped you would.

_Seras: _Don't you have another story with characters to pester?

_Author: _Not at the moment. I'm finishing the outline for Hunter's fight.

_Hunter: _Do I win or loose?

__

_silence_

__

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**Chapter 14: Reign of Blood**


	14. Reign of Blood

A/N: In which the history of the world is reveiwed and the final battle takes place. Several stories, games, and shows that I liked were drawn upon for this history, including stories from KharBevNor, Zaybach1, and the Bible. I want it to be known that instead of ripping their stories off completely, I merely used what they said as a basis for a side note, like Anderson's history and why Alucard served the Hellsings. If they wish the information changed, I will do so without complaint.

* * *

_What has Happened Before_

In the beginning, there was nothing. Then God created the heavens and the Earth. The Earth was formless and void, and darkness was over the surface of the deep, and the Spirit of God was moving over the surface of the waters. Then God said, "Let there be light"; and there was light.

Several centuries passed, and demons began to roam the Earth. Then was the second coming of man, and they drove the demons out with the creation of the Slayer. During this time a demon mixed its blood with the body of a man. The first vampire came into being.

More centuries passed. The conflict between good and evil came to a head with the arrival of the Son of God and later his sacrifice. With that act, humanity as a whole was saved, but the conflict continued on.

In the fourth century A.D., a man dying on a battlefield made a plea for his life, wishing that he not die as his blood leaked from him. The devil came forth in the guise of an old man, and promised to save the life of the soldier in exchange for service. The soldier took the offer before realizing whom it was offering the aid. He died but lived still, no longer human, requiring the blood of others to sustain his life. The second kind of vampire came into being.

In the sixth century, a man was born to a middle class family in Walachia. He was a cruel man, who enjoyed the torturing of his fathers captives. His name was Prince Vlad III Dracula Tepes. He came across a woman one night, and was struck by her beauty. He courted her, and one night they were out walking and she attacked, draining him and siring the vampire that would reign as the Count Dracula. He killed his parents, usurping the throne of Walachia, what would one day be called Transylvania.

In the tenth century, a man was born into the court of Walachia, and rose to the position of Duke in the Count's land. He was an aloof but malevolent man, capable of great acts of great mischief and great evil. He took a gypsy woman named Jasmine as his concubine and forced many great acts of depravity on her. Then the Count spirited her away in the night, a punishment for some act that he had disagreed with. Which one was never said.

The Duke wandered in his gardens one night and came across a man by a strand of flowers under a tall tree. He walked up to him, intending to release his anger upon this person that dared to intrude upon his thoughts. The fight did not go the way he thought it would, and he soon rose as the undead. He fled the country in fear, winding up in England for a short time.

At the same time, a small coven of witches and warlocks attempted to raise the powers of Hell – naming their group and powers _Anusan – _for their own uses, and in doing so opened the doorway through which demons came through to perpetuate the wishes of the Source of All Evil. They became the first Darklighters. The Elders, under the command of God, allowed their own people to go and act as the guides and protectors of the witches that fought for good, being the Whitelighters. The magical combat ensued outside of the eyes of the common man. The prophecy of the Charmed Ones was spoken of one night as a rede slipping from the mouth of a witch trying to glimpse the future.

In the fourteenth century, as the world was slipping further and further into the grips of chaos and evil, the Crusades in their height, the Duke came across a woman in a small village in England and was struck for the first time in an age by lust and so attacked her. He left her for dead, but she survived, and brought into the world a son, unbeknownst to either of them his dual nature. She named him Robin Valar, hoping that with his name he would search out his father and enact justice in her name.

Time passed, and the Crusades came to an end and peace began to seep into the world again. Robin and his younger sister were walking, discussing their plans for the future and were set upon by a werewolf. Vlad Dracula took a third bride, and Erik Valar began to sweep terror in Spain, planting the seeds of discord in the ears of many of the church against the Jews.

The Inquisition came and went, claiming the lives of hundreds of accused heretics. Robin Valar slipped into a rage and hunted those he felt responsible for the death of Miranda, the tale reaching the ears of his father. In an effort to track down and ally with his powerful son, he began to scour the land, but came to no avail. Robin in the meantime had fled to the Orient, changing his name to James Hunter.

The new world was found; Spain attempted to attack the then 'weak' England, resulting in the defeat of the Spanish Armada. Transylvania was shaken by war, the courts of the Count being emptied except for those few bands of Gypsies that served him when they stayed for the shelter of his castle. The Belmont family began their vendetta against the evil undead that ruled the land. Accompanied by the 'son' of the vampire, he was defeated at last after many members of the family fell. The quest at an end, the 'son' resting for the time when he would be needed again, the land fell into silence again for many years. His true son, his name shortened to D, went to wander, seeking a purpose in life.

In Ireland, a boy named Liam was born, and in time he came across a woman named Darla. Fifty years later, having taken the name Angelus, he came across a woman named Drusilla, and eventually she came across a young man named William. After his siring, William took on the name Spike. The four cut a bloody path through Europe and Asia.

In Europe, a Dutch man to be named Abraham Van Helsing was born. He learned the lore of the vampires and of their demise he vowed to complete. Jonathan Harker, Mina Murray, Lucy Weternra, and Renfield were born in England. Harker went to Transylvania to finish the proceedings that would seal the sale of a house in London for the Count. The events that followed are well documented in the diaries of those involved, transcribed by Bram Stoker in an attempt to keep the heirs of the Belmont family from hunting down the deranged vampire and robbing Van Helsing of his revenge against the monster for the death of his wife at the hands of the Children of Judas.

In Scotland in 1914, a blonde youth was born into the Anderson family. He was raised in a Catholic boarding school. He was an introverted child, but a very bright one at that. After his family was murdered, he was approached by a priest from Rome.

A young boy was born in 1930, and he was quiet, but fiercely loyal and intelligent. His name was Walter C. Ddollneaz.

The two world wars were fought, Hunter met Walter and Dracula, called Alucard by the master of Hellsing, Valar met with the Major, and Dracula told of his being taken prisoner by Van Helsing just before his death. In a way of honouring the man that had hunted him for the better part of a century and to take care of the artificial vampires that were an affront to his pride, he vowed service to the descendants of that man. They anglicised the name to Hellsing, and they were knighted by the queen as an ordained order, bestowed with the charge to protect the country from the evils of the vampires.

More time passed, and vicious wars were fought in the Orient and the Arabian Peninsula. Hunter travelled to America and worked for the Corporation, a paramilitary group that dealt with supernatural outbursts, employing witches, werewolves, and Dhampirs. Alucard was ordered into seclusion in 1971 by Lionel Hellsing. In 1977, Lionel was given a daughter that he named Integral, and in 1983, a girl was born to a police officer and his wife. A French couple had a boy, feisty but laid back.

In 1991, Lionel died and Alucard was released in the subsequent events. The bond between the young human and the ancient vampire made the Organization stronger than it had been in the century since it had been created.

The new millennium came, and Seras Victoria, now 19 and a police officer like her late father, was dispatched to Cheddar Village with the D-11 team. She died that night and was brought into the Hellsing Organization by Alucard. She faced many dangers during her time as a fledgling, including the attacks of a vampire named Incognito and an assault on the last remaining stronghold of _Das Millennium, _falling in love with a feisty, if laid back, mercenary named Pip Bernadette. Between the two of them and the strong will of the released Integra, Hellsing recovered and flourished. Sunnydale, California was consumed as the Hellmouth beneath it was destroyed by the last Slayer, Buffy Summers. The prophecy of the Charmed Ones came to be fulfilled, and they battled both demons and their own doubts.

In 2002, Alucard released Seras of the servant bond, and she began to develop her various talents. Hunter began tracing the faint signs of a group attempting to raise Hell on Earth again. The Charmed Ones vanquished the Source, but its essence took control of Cole Turner, a half-demon that was engaged to one of the sisters. Cole was vanquished in time, flung from the alternate reality he had created as a mortal. Brandon Heat finished his hunt for those that killed him and set aside his guns, but remained open for anyone that would call for Gungrave again. The Watchers' Council was reinstituted with Rupert Giles, Dawn Summers, and Andrew Wells as the heads of various departments. They devoted most of their energies to tracking down the various Slayers that had been awakened. Faith finished her sentence in Los Angeles, being released into the care of Angel Investigations for her abilities to aid in the search.

2003 came and went, with various associates of Angel and Spike dying in a titanic battle. Hunter was pulled off his case temporarily to aid with the FREAK outbreak in San Francisco and LA. Piper Halliwell gave birth to her first child, and the Titans were released, resulting in the destruction of the Elders. A new Source rose, but lay dormant to consolidate his power.

2004 came with a quiet opening, Pip falling in the defence of Seras, D somehow acquiring a parasite that was most annoying, and Hunter began to hit dead ends in his search. Valar came about the perfect plan to avenge the theft of Jasmine and Rip Van Winkle at the hands of Alucard and the accursed Hellsing Organization and began to pull together a group of people that would aid him. One was a mercenary leader named Millions Knives, who came with a small band of hired hands that were loyal to him and several hundred that were just paid well. They took up shop in an abandoned base near the Falkland Islands.

Hunter was ordered to England to aid Hellsing with their mission, reunited with Walter and Alucard, and met Seras. Integra was kidnapped, Robin Sena and Amon arrived at the behest of Hunter, and father and son were reunited, at opposite ends of the spectrum.

* * *

_Now_

Hunter stared across the blade of his sword at his father, his transparent gaze boring into the cold brown eyes of the one responsible for his being, for the suffering forced upon so many. He could hear Seras' frantic shouting in his mind, felt the desperation in Integra's mind, and saw the FREAKS approaching quickly.

_Seras, keep the riffraff out, please._

She nodded, and spoke quickly to Robin, and began to keep the ghouls and FREAKS out of the room, a wall of fire consuming many, the weapons of the combatants taking those that made it through the flames. He took several steps towards his father, who held the sword in a confident grip but had a slight hint of fear in his eyes.

"So afraid of me, father? Why?"

"Afraid of you? A weak half-breed?" The laugh that escaped his lips sounded forced. "I could crush you without this blade, but I still have hope that you would aid me in my quest. We could rule the world, my child. Think of the riches you would own, the lives you would command!"

Hunter laughed fully in his face. "What use have I of riches when I might fall one day? They are of the material world, and as you and I well know, we are no more of that world than we are angels."

They circled each other, staying across the ring of runes from each other. Valar shrugged and stepped forward. "I am sorry you feel that way, son. You had such great potential." He began to summon his demons to devour this upstart.

He became aware that nothing was happening after a moment or two.

"What's the matter, father?" asked Hunter as he stepped forward. "Demons not coming? Don't you know anything about your kind?"

Valar strained more, sweat breaking out on his forehead. He had to hop backwards to avoid a swing from his son, brining his sword up to return the attack.

"You see, when a Dhampir faces its sire, the rules are different." Swing, parry. "The powers of a vampire are dampened, providing an equal footing."

They continued to fight, crossing and recrossing the circle on the floor. "Muscle against muscle." The blades clanged and crashed against each other. "Claw on claw, tooth on tooth, mind against mind!" Hunter smiled as he watched the clumsy way his father wielded the sword. He wasn't used to this kind of combat, whereas Hunter had partaken in this kind of fight several times through the centuries and was quite confident with his abilities.

As he fought, he began to mentally rip the Writs down from around Alucard and push the various bits of Anderson closer to each other so that he could pull himself together.

He chuckled at his unwitting pun as he continued to keep his father occupied.

* * *

Seras saw him, the swords, and felt the icy fear claw at her gut again. She cried out in her mind. 

_Be careful, he's got Sir Integra and Alucard captured!_

_Seras, keep the riffraff out, please._

She knew what he meant, remembering the ghouls and FREAKS behind them. She turned to Robin.

"You think you're strong enough to put up a wall to keep them out?" she asked.

The young witch nodded, and looked at the entrance, a wall of flames leaping up, creating a barrier that consumed several ghouls and FREAKS that were unfortunate enough to be in the way when it went up. She pulled her Socom and tossed it and the small hip pack of clips to Heinkel for backup when the Colt ran out of ammo. Her Gravedigger thundered, ripping ghouls and FREAKS apart alike, piles of dust collecting on the floor. Yumie slashed monsters apart while Amon stood guard over the still weak Robin. She glanced back, seeing the pistols Hunter had dropped. She pulled them to her with a mental tug, hoping that her telekinesis had grown enough now. All she managed was a small twitching of the belt, same as all the other times she had tried to move things with her mind. She sighed and fired again and again, trying to keep those on the other side of the fire from deciding that they could make it through in one piece.

Amon shouted above the din. "Should we try and help him?"

She shook her head. Time and again she had heard that this was a battle between the father and son, and she could feel it in her heart that only one would walk from this confrontation.

"We're not allowed in that show anymore, Amon," she said as she released the empty magazine from her pistol and drew a new one out.

"We just have to deal with the extras right now."

* * *

Integra woke from the light doze she and Alucard had slipped into after their mental interlude. She heard the murmur of voices, the clash of metal on metal. Valar passed beneath her, crossing swords with Hunter. 

Hunter, here? That meant...

Sure enough, at the large entrance stood Seras Victoria, holding off the ghouls and FREAKS with Amon, Robin, Heinkel and Yumiko.

_No, she's attacking, which means Yumiko is sleeping. That's Yumie._

She watched the battle unfold, and heard a ripping sound across from her. She looked up as best she could, and saw one of the Writs about Alucard pull free and separate into tiny pieces.

_Wake up, you pitiful excuse for a vampire, _she taunted the red-suited form across from her. _See if you can get free yet._

_You know, I wish that at times like this you would show your real feelings instead of taunting me. I would do the same, you know._

She smiled. _But you'd go right back to taunting as soon as we were safe again. I'm just cutting out the middle steps._

Alucard laughed. _True. And if he could get rid of a few more Writs, I'd be able to get free. Then we'd get out of here._

_What about him? _

Alucard's sigh rang through her mind. _I've told you several times that this is no longer our fight. _

The sound of blade on blade came from out of her vision, a grunt of pain, of cloth tearing.

_And as much as I wish to help my old friend, the laws of my world prevent it.

* * *

_

He wasn't sure how it worked, how he could be conscious even after being torn apart by that bastard. He just knew that he could feel each part of his body, exerting his efforts to bring them back together, trying to hurry the regeneration process.

He didn't know how much time had passed, but he felt slight progress, his legs much closer to his torso, his hands pulling towards his arms, which were slowly heading for his chest.

Then, he heard voices, and the sound of blade on blade. The way his head was resting, he saw that half-breed and his father engaged in a duel, broadswords of silver in their hands. He recognized the metal as easy as he recognized the telekinetic push on his assorted parts, shoving them all into a rough approximation of a human form, cutting down on the amount of time and effort he would have to use to put himself back into one piece.

Then that rat bastard would have his hands full, rules of conflict or not. He'd had enough of that monster.

* * *

For the first time in centuries, fear was clawing at Erik Valar's mind. He couldn't pull any of his abilities to play outside of his enhanced speed and strength and a glimmering of telekinesis. All he had was his wits and his muscles to hold his son off. 

And he was barely managing to do that through the fact that his son was somewhat tired from the trek to face him. But his son had also had much more experience with blades and extended combat than he. He wondered about his continued existence for the first time since this whole thing had stared.

Hunter meanwhile switched from the classic European gambits used for broadswords and rapiers to the Oriental styles suited more for the curved blades of their weapons. It was somewhat clumsy with the straight broadsword, but there were enough similarities between the sword he held and those used in Tai Chi that he compensated well. His feet flashed across the stone floor in broad even steps, always staying shoulder width apart. He came up in a slash that he turned into sweep by rotating his body at the last second. He connected with his father's side, cutting into the cloth of his tunic. The pointed tip of the sword cut into the flesh of his side, drawing blood. He finished his spin by slamming the pommel of his sword into his father's nose, flinging him back several meters and dumping him onto the ground.

He used the seconds of downtime to rip two more Writs into confetti. That should be enough to let the vampire free, though it would still impede apparating and phasing. Those weren't the points, getting those people free before the Seals opened were. If that happened, nothing he could do would save them.

He parried a thrust from his father easily, and realized that he was tiring, trying to get out to a point where he could bring his vampiric powers into play.

"Don't you get it, father?" Cut, slash, spin. "Once the fight has begun, only the ending of my life will release the bonds. Or your death releases mine."

It was a dangerous game, with only his strength and speed on call, with touches of telekinesis. Regeneration, phasing, misting, and all other powers were dampened down for the fight. He knew that any injuries sustained in this fight would stay until it was over.

He came up to block a slash, felt the jolt of the two blades connecting, and then the bite of pain as his father shoved forward in a thrust that he barely dodged, the point of the sword cutting into his left arm. He backed off, tearing a strip of cloth from his jumpsuit and quickly tying it around the cut, more to keep it from dripping blood down his arm and making his grip slide than anything else.

"Why do you do this?" asked his father as he pressed the advantage. "Why do you fight what you are?"

Hunter countered and attacked, snapping out a kick. "Oh, yeah, sometimes in sword fights you can use your feet, too." He smiled, enjoying the taunt's effect. "As for why, well," he brought his sword down in a hard slash that drove his father to his knees, opening him up for another kick.

"A wise man once said 'Greater in battle than the man who would conquer a thousand-thousand men, is he who would conquer just one - himself.' I learned that 'hiding' in the Orient."

He continued to fight, knowing how the fight itself would turn out now. His father was tiring quickly, but so was he. They were still evenly matched and all it would take was one mistake on his part. His heart sank somewhat, knowing what he had to do.

_Seras, start getting everyone out, now. _He hurled his gunbelt at her, knowing the firepower would help her clear out the remaining ghouls. _GO!_

She nodded, tossing the belt over her shoulder and pulling Abel from its holster. She began to lead Robin and Amon across to the other door, the witch sending a gust of flames back to keep the monsters from following. Heinkel tossed Yumie her glasses, yelling for her to pull back and help with Anderson.

"Worried you might loose, son?" his father taunted in a slightly breathless voice.

"No, just making sure they don't get underfoot. And aren't you forgetting two things, my dear father?"

Valar frowned. "What could I be forgetting?"

"One thing is what the _Anusan _was: a gateway direct to Hell. It was transformed into a source of power for demons to draw upon while they were here. But when the Charmed Ones vanquished the Source, it reverted to its original purpose, a doorway. Which means, if you open it now, all it will do is suck you and everyone nearby into it."

His father snarled. "That can't be true, I read the ritual precisely."

"And I read the pages that were supposed to accompany it, one of the few documents that survived the bombing of the Watcher's Council. It contained several points of history that just knowing the ritual wouldn't inform you off." He pressed his attack. "Which means, of course, that you're even more of an idiot than you would have been for forgetting the second thing."

"Which would be what, youngling?"

"The fact that ye left an extremely pissed off regenerator behind ye, ye bastard."

Valar spun, seeing the priest rise again, his bayonets flinging out and piercing the vampire, who flung his arm out and tossed the priest across the room to slam into the wall, the sound of his skull cracking echoing in the room. Hunter hurried to press his advantage, shouting at the two women from Iscariot.

"Get him out of here, fast!"

They lifted the large frame and began to drag him out. Alucard was free now, pulling the bonds that held Integra in place, freeing her and heading towards the door as well.

_Get them all out of here, old friend, _he thought. _I'm going to be bringing down the house._

The vampire looked back at him, a sad look crossing his face. He knew what the Dhampir was planning.

_You'll disappoint the Police Girl, _he thought back.

_Tell her to come get me herself if she wants to complain. _He gave the vampire a mental push. _Go, now._

He turned back to his father. They were both standing on the rune marked floor again. A pool of blood had collected about his father's feet. He wavered from blood loss.

Hunter brought the blade of his sword up and drew it across his palm, opening a large wound. He squeezed his fist, forcing the blood to drip onto the floor. A low groaning hum began to permeate the room.

Valar's eyes flew open. "What are you doing?" he asked, trying to hobble forward.

"The blood of a noble born, the blood of a willing sacrifice, testaments to open the locked Seals of _Anusan, _shall release the power onto the one that commands the release," Hunter said, echoing the ritual passage. "And in case you forgot, you were noble born."

"You'll die, too, son."

"If that's what it takes to get rid of you and what you know, then I'm willing to do that." The rumbling grew louder. "But you'll die by my hands, as tradition requires. It's the way this game is played. There can be only one that walks away."

The fear in his father's eyes showed why he didn't try and block the blade as it swept into his neck, separating his head from his body.

Hunter then knelt, feeling his body start to heal. He knew that his father's body, still lying there next to him, could regenerate if left alone. He had originally planned to have Robin incinerate the body and stake the head out to burst in the light of dawn. But there was no time, now. He had to dispose of the body and the labs, the files, everything that this base contained. He had been ordered to as the last mission parameter when he was sent back to Hellsing.

_The FREAK outbreak is to be stopped at all costs, including that of your life. That is your primary goal. You are transferred to and will work with the Hellsing operatives, answerable ultimately to Sir Integra Hellsing. Share with her what information that would be pertinent to the mission, but no further. Use your discretion in this operation. Make sure that the primary mission goal is achieved. The FREAKS must be contained._

He felt the floor starting to break apart, and he closed his eyes. Six hundred years and more things than he thought possible to see. He had lived a full life.

His one regret was that he couldn't keep his promise to Seras.

* * *

Seras was guarding the door, ushering all of them through as the floor began to shake, rocks breaking free of the ceiling. A large rock hit Integra in the head, dropping her to the floor. Alucard swept her up, concern in his eyes. She was bleeding badly. She then saw James drop to his knees, closing his eyes. He looked as though he was dead, not moving except for the slight motion of his chest as he breathed. She started to rush towards him, but felt a pair of hands shove her from behind. She fell to the ground, seeing Amon get struck by the large chunk of rock that had almost crushed her. The floor began to shake more violently, the walls collapsing. She saw a large pillar fall towards her, and she shut her eyes, waiting for the pain that would accompany being crushed under that edifice. 

It never came. She opened her eyes and saw Hunter holding it up like Atlas with the Earth. The cords in his neck stood out, the veins in his arms popping to the surface as he strained to hold the tons of rock off of her.

_Go, get Amon out of here. I'll hold this up till you get out._

_What about you? _It was all she could do to keep from screaming the question.

_The second I let this go, this room starts collapsing as the Gateway opens and sucks it all to Hell. The mountain will follow soon after. Now get him and GO! _He staggered a step. _I don't want you in here when the roof starts coming down._

She stood, intending to help him hold the pillar up. He pushed her back mentally.

_It's all I can do to hold this up between my muscles and my mind. There is no way you could hold it up. Now get him and go, damn it! _His eyes held a sad look to them. _Sorry I couldn't take you on that third date._

She picked herself back up, tears rushing from her eyes. She started to pull the pendant from her neck.

_No, keep that and my pistols. I'll know they're in safe hands then._

She looked at him, tears coating her face, her heart torn. _You promised me, _she said, not wanting to leave.

_Sometimes things happen, and the wheel of time turns only forward. Go, I don't want to take you with me._

_I love you, _she thought, the words surprising her. Love, after only a month?

But what else could it be, with this much pain tearing at her insides?

_I know, _he returned. _Which is why I want you to get out. Your friends need you too, Seras. You need you. Live that life that you know you can have._

She looked at him, all the conversations they had flooding through her mind. His words in the graveyard coming to the fore.

_"You don't believe in Heaven?"_

_"It doesn't matter; it is a place for the dead, not the living. If and when I die, if I wind up there, I'll be happy. If not, then my opinion really doesn't matter. But the thing is, I'm here now, and I have a duty to everyone that cannot protect themselves, even unto my own death. So do you. So did Pip. So did everyone you see in this graveyard. Pip is in good company, and he died serving the helpless. That is a hero's death."_

She went forward and kissed him, feeling the dust from the pillar he held tumble about them, dusting her hair.

_I won't forget you, _she thought at him as she picked up Amon's limp form.

_I'd hope not, love, _he laughed in her mind. _I'd hate to die thinking I was unmemorable._

She returned the smile weakly.

_Go, _he thought at her one last time.

She turned and raced out, once again leaving the man she loved behind out of his own wishes.

And the tears continued to flood down her face, staining her shirt.

Behind her, the sound of collapsing rock filled her ears.

_James, _she thought as she raced up the stairs leading outside.

_Oh James,

* * *

_

_Drum Fill_

I never really feel quite right and I don't know why  
All I know is that something's wrong  
Everytime I look at you you seem so alive.

Tell me how do you do it?  
Walk me through it,  
I'm following everyfootstep

Maybe on your own you take a cautious step  
Do you want to give it up?

But all I want is for you to SHINE  
Shine down on me  
Shine on this life that's burning out.

I say a lot of things sometimes that don't come out right  
And I act like I don't know why  
I guess the reaction is all I was looking for, yeah

You looked through me,  
You really knew me,  
Like no one has ever looked before

Baby on your own you take a cautious step  
Do you want to give it up?

But all I want is for you to SHINE  
Shine down on me,  
Shine this life that's burning out.

I know, I know, girl you got something  
  
SHINE (Shine it on to me)  
Shine down on me (I wanna feel it)  
Shine on this life that's burning out

_Instrumental break_

Baby on your own you take a cautious step  
Do you wanna give it up?  
  
But all I want is for you to SHINE  
Shine down on me (Just show me something)  
Shine on this life that's burning out (You give me something that I never  
know)  
  
SHINE (It's coming down on you if you can show me the way)  
Shine down on me (I wanna know what's going in on your mind)  
Shine on this life that's burning out

Don't you know I want you to SHINE  
Shine down on me  
Shine on this life that's burning out

_

* * *

_

**Preview**

_Seras: _In the final chapter, we say our goodbyes to Robin, Amon, and Vash's group, I come to grips with my loss, and we take stock of our injuries and what we have to do now.

_Alucard: _You're taking this well, Police Girl.

_Seras: _What else can I do?

_Author: _Well, you could announce the last title chapter so we can get on with the business at hand.

_Seras: _You bastard, how could you do that to him?

_Author: _You would prefer I left you in the cavern? There is purpose to all my madness, I assure you.

_Seras: _Oh, come off it already.

**Chapter 15: Partings and Unsuspected Surprises**


	15. Partings and Unexpected Surprises

A/N: The last chapter of this story, I hope it meets with your expectations

* * *

Alucard raced along, the wounded Integra in his arms. She was bleeding from the wound on her head, bleeding badly. He was still too close to the Writs to apparate out, and with the mountain beginning to crumble around him he was having difficulties keeping his footing. He passed through a doorway, recognizing the corridor where he had rescued her several days previously. He raced along, knowing that Robin Sena and the dogs from Iscariot were only steps behind him. The Police Girl and Amon were even further back. He could sense Seras' grief, her anguish from here.

Then she had seen James' sacrifice, his willingness to give himself to end this fight, to destroy this repository of the Millennium group's knowledge. He felt a stab of pain and pity for her. She surely wouldn't take that well. She had been walled up after that mercenary died months ago, and she had become even closer to the half-breed than she had that human.

He probed Integra's mind. She was fading fast; he had to get her someplace that could attend to her wound. There hadn't been time to examine it in the cavern. He felt his powers rush into him, and he blinked out of the area as soon as he could, appearing in the medical ward of the Hellsing manor. Doctor Trevellian started at his sudden appearance, but at the sight of his employer in the vampires arms he began rushing about to help.

"What happened?" he asked, examining the wound carefully.

"She was struck by a large rock during a cave in. It happened approximately five minutes ago." He set her gently on the operating table, noting for the first time the amount of blood that had soaked into his sleeve. He hadn't even felt it as he had rushed through the halls of the cavern. Now he couldn't ignore it, the cloying smell taunting his nose, damming him for not getting here faster.

Trevellian looked at the wound, and he didn't look hopeful. "Can you help her?" Alucard asked, fearing the answer.

The doctor shook his head. "Her skull is severely cracked, I expect some of the fragments have been driven into her brain or she has a severe subdural hematoma at the least. I can't do anything for her, even as fresh as the wound is."

Alucard felt his fangs flare into existence, his anger immediate. Then it faded. He shucked his jacket and began rolling up his sleeve.

"Set up a transfusion line, now."

"What good will that do? She's dying as we speak."

"DO IT!" he shouted, his fangs gleaming in the light.

The doctor set about setting up a line from the vampire's arm to his injured master. Soon, the blood from the No-Life King was flowing into the dying human.

* * *

Seras rushed along, supporting Amon as they made it up through the rubble strewn corridors. They caught up with Robin and the women from Iscariot, who were holding up a rather groggy Anderson between the two of them. He was almost recovered from the serious crack he had received at the hands of Valar, and as soon as he was completely healed, he would be able to sweep his two compatriots out with one of his spells. Robin would glance up from time to time, incinerating rocks as they fell, protecting all that were moving with her.

She couldn't focus on anything besides her running. Outside of that, the simple _go, get out, survive _instinct, her entire mind was on the image of James holding that pillar up so that she could escape. Sacrificing himself so that they could survive, making sure that the complex was destroyed.

_You stupid sod, couldn't you have found another way? _She swiped at the tears that still flowed from her eyes. She refused to let this death weigh her down like Pip's had. She had to continue on, honour his last wish. Live, and enjoy what her life had to offer.

But right now she would mourn as best she could, mourn the loss of a dear friend, of someone she loved. It wasn't evil, it was natural.

But that didn't mean she didn't wish it hadn't happened.

Suddenly, as she passed into a hallway, she felt awareness flood into her, and she grabbed Robin's arm and phased out, appearing outside the mountain, the sinking moon illuminating the small field that separated the central mountain from the four that surrounded it. She put Amon on the ground and returned for the people from Iscariot, pulling them out just as the hall started to collapse. They all slumped onto the ground, exhausted and just stared as the mountain shuddered and began to cave in like a cake that had a massive air bubble in its middle; the top falling in, creating a crater, the sides following until it was just a massive rubble pile.

She just stared.

_James,

* * *

_

There was massive pain in her head, and a small fire in her arm. She was lying on her back somewhere, and she cracked her eyes open, bright lights stabbing her retinas. She saw an IV tube in her arm, linked to a pump of some sort. She followed the other tube to the form laying on a gurney very similar to hers. The body was pale, paler than normal.

Alucard, his eyes closed. His hair was beginning to turn white at the roots, his skin wrinkling somewhat. She tried to say something, but the pain at the back of her head overpowered her again.

She sank back into blissful unconsciousness, calling out in her mind.

_Alucard,

* * *

_

He could feel the blood draining from his body as it was fed into her, sustaining her. He hoped that the healing qualities that it would impart on her would save her. He knew that he had probably given her enough, but he dared not remove the transfusion tube on the odd chance that it wasn't enough. He would rather be dried up worse than he had been after those twenty years of confinement than loose her. She had to survive, she _had _to. She had slit open her own throat to shed the blood of Bobhanshee that had been mixed into her veins, had survived three months of imprisonment in the Tower of London, the betrayal of her uncle, and a thousand other threats to her. Surely this little wound would not be her undoing.

But it was the uncertainty that kept him connected to the pump, to the IV. He felt his body shutting down to conserve what little blood still flowed through his veins. He fluttered on the verge of passing out. She had to survive.

He slipped from the world of the waking and fell into dark dreams in which he was trying to pull her from a dark pond where some vast monster held her in a tentacled grip.

* * *

She stared at the massive pile of rubble, heaped like a cairn over the grave of a giant.

Somewhere beneath the untold tons of stone was all that was left of James Hunter. She was kneeling by the edge of the pile, a few tears still dripping down her face. Robin, having wrapped the minor wounds on Amon, had joined her, saying a prayer and shedding tears as well. A hand landed on her shoulder. She looked up and saw Heinkel standing over her. The Austrian woman held out the holster containing Hunter's Colt and her Socom pistol. She took the equipment back, looking at the elderly pistol. Another part of him, the only part that survived. She had already strapped on the gunbelt that he had tossed at her, the large pistols strapped to her thighs. Pistols that he would never fire again.

"If it is of any consolation, I extend my sympathies for his passing." The woman looked down at her. "It is obvious that he vas special to you."

Seras nodded, not wanting to speak.

She just stared at the stones, not knowing what to do for some time. She became aware of another presence just behind her. She looked up and saw the massive priest behind her. A jolt of fear shot through her until he knelt down beside her and shut his eyes, murmuring a quick prayer.

"He may have been an inhuman creature by birth, but he saved a lot o' lives by doing what he did, taking out that monster. He was a worthy opponent, one of massive honour. I'll pray for his soul." He stood. "But if ye tell anyone what I just said, I'll hunt ye down and make sure ye stay dead this time."

Seras smiled at the threat. He'd hunt her down like that anyway just because of what she was, but the attempt at condolence was somewhat surprising.

The sun began to lick at the horizon. She pulled the pendant off, staring at the interlaced ovals that it was comprised of. A pendant he had given her as a gesture that he would come back. Something he had told her to keep as he held the pillar up.

She kissed it and laid it on the stones that served as his grave. Then, gathering Robin and Amon, she phased back to the base where Walter waited.

There was nothing left for her there.

* * *

She floated up a tunnel, drifting towards a light and a voice that was calling her name. She opened her eyes. The pain that had been at the back of her head was gone, replaced by a strange rushing in her ears, a sense of a wind rushing across her exposed skin.

"Sir Integra, can you hear me?" the voice asked again.

She turned towards the source. Dr. Trevellian, the same doctor that had operated on her when she had slit her own throat. She smiled weakly. "You must get tired of stitching me up," she said, attempting humour.

He smiled. "I didn't have to this time."

Then it all flooded back to her, the cavern, the collapse, and the blinding flash of pain as something struck her in the head, then the snippet of seeing Alucard hooked up to a transfusion pump like a blood pack. She looked over, and saw him still lying there, two transfusion bags hanging by him, dripping blood directly into him. His hair was solid white, his flesh the colour of parchment.

She looked at him, realizing what he had done, the sacrifice he had made. For him to look like that, most of his blood must have been siphoned off into her. She reached up and felt the back of her head, searching for a lump, a bruise, anything. "How long have I been out?" she asked.

"Three days." The doctor shined a small light in her eyes, causing her to blink away tears that came to her eyes. "I need to inform you of some small side effects that have surfaced," he said, his face grave.

She looked at him, a strange sense of dread coiling in her stomach. She had become aware that all of her senses were hyper alert.

"Go on," she said.

* * *

_Two Weeks Later_

Seras phased into the office, seeing her commander and Master sitting in her chair, seemingly fully recovered from her ordeal. Her eyes latched onto the blonde vampire, who was still unused to the slight shift they had made, a touch of grey clouding the blue she was so used to seeing. "You wanted to see me, Sir Integra?" she asked.

The older woman stood, brushing her gloved hands briefly. "Yes, Commander. I have an assignment for you that needs immediate attention."

Seras drew to attention. "Commander Seras Victoria reporting for assignment, sir."

"At ease, Commander." When the smaller woman relaxed, she continued. "I want you to change out of uniform and head into Soho and choose a pub. You are to enter it and chose a table, and order yourself some food and something to drink."

"And keep an eye out for FREAKS and ghouls, understood sir." She made to leave.

"Wrong, Commander," Integra said. "I am ordering you to take a night off and celebrate his memory. You've been cooped up inside here since that day. Robin and Amon will be leaving tomorrow, as well as Vash and his group now that they're all healed and rested. I want you to be there to see them off, and I want you out of this shell that you've fallen into."

"Understood, sir," she said. She'd rather go and blast FREAKS into dust, keep busy, but she knew that Alucard would be on hand just as much and would enjoy it more.

The taller woman came up and rested her hand on Seras' shoulder. "He's probably sharing a pint or two with Pip right now, so go and have one in his honour. Take a personal night. Alucard and the regulars can handle anything that might pop up tonight."

Seras nodded, and went to her room to change. She still hadn't quite mastered the ability to cause her clothes to morph into other outfits like Alucard and James could. She knew all it consisted of was the phasing of what she was wearing off and the outfit she wished to wear on, but she didn't have enough fine control yet. She was working on it, but she had a few shirts that were bastardized mixes of earlier attempts, or had wound up topless when her concentration had faltered. She pulled on a pair of jeans, a bland sweater so different from her usual pastels and a pair of half-boots, pulling on the same floppy hat that she was fond of. As she shifted her eye colour to blue, she thought back on the exercises James had put her through prior to the ball almost two months ago.

So much had changed, now. Integra had survived due to Alucard's transfusion, but it had resulted in the altering of her genetic structure in a subtle way. She was, for a technical definition, a Dhampir. She had the strength and senses of the race, and there were glimmerings of some of the other abilities. She was spared the thirst by the virtue that she hadn't died before acquiring those abilities, and it seemed as though she had picked up the immortality end of the deal as well.

It could be temporary, Trevellian had said, as the last time she had mixed her blood with Alucard's had been.

Time would tell.

Integra and Alucard didn't care to hide the fact that they had become a bit of a couple. The No-Life King's reluctance had been dashed by the discovery of the 'side effects' of his donation. Even if it wasn't true immortality, he had said once, it was better than loosing her after a few more decades.

She was happy for them, though at times she felt a stab of jealousy.

She snagged a denim jacket and pulled it on, feeling the weight of the pistol secreted in the holster built into the lining. She pulled it out, staring at the lines of the gun, the single word etched into its barrel. One of James' pistols.

She now carried all three when she went out in the field, those two modified Desert Eagles and her Gravedigger. She had retired her Socom now that it wasn't enough to put down FREAKS as they continued to develop more and more vampiric abilities. And each generation was stronger, being turned by the chipped vampires. They hadn't come across any new versions of FREAKS since the island had been destroyed, but she knew it would only be a matter of time. They hadn't found the designer yet, or all the repositories. It could be years, decades, or longer before they cleared them all out.

She tucked the pistol away after checking the magazine. She never went anywhere unarmed. She headed for the motor pool. She didn't feel like phasing to Soho, she wanted to spend a night without her powers. As she slipped the car out of the garage, she slipped a CD into the stereo. She had made it a few nights ago. It contained all the songs that she had heard James talk about as well as songs she enjoyed. Dave Matthews began singing as she turned onto the main road that would lead to Soho.

_You know she wishes it was different,  
__She prays to God most every night  
__Though she knows well He doesn't listen,  
__There's still a hope in her He might._

_She says I pray,  
__Oh but they all fall on deaf ears  
__Am I supposed to take it on myself  
__To get out of this place?_

_Oh there's a loneliness inside her,  
__That she'd do anything to fill it in  
__And though it's red blood bleeding from her now  
__It feels like cold blue ice in her heart  
__She feels like kicking out all of the windows  
__And setting fire to this life  
__She would change everything about her  
__Using colours bold and bright  
__But the colours mix together  
__To grey.  
__And it breaks her heart,  
__Oh it breaks her heart,  
__To grey, yeah!_

She thought on the song. She found herself thinking about a lot of things as of late, deeper than she would have three months ago. Normally she would have just found herself tapping her foot or nodding her head in time with the man's mad strumming patterns.

But that was before James.

She fought back the sting of tears as she turned into a parking garage. It still hurt to think about it, but she refused to weep. She would remember him, the things he had taught her, and make sure that she tried to live. She may be undead, but that didn't mean that she couldn't have a life outside of work. After all, he had managed to have friends the world over. She had met several of them during the course of their adventure.

She parked the car and started walking towards the entrance, sticking her hands into the pockets of her jacket. She heard a quiet step behind her, and before she could turn, a voice piped up.

"Excuse me, miss, but I think you dropped this,"

She turned, already thanking the man. "Thank you, sir. Sometimes I swear I would loose my head if it wasn't..." she caught sight of what the man was holding out.

A triquertra on a silver chain.

She looked at the face of the person holding the pendant. It was a bit gaunt and paler than when last she saw it, but the smirk was unmistakeable, the rust coloured hair a dead giveaway. It was him, unless her mind was playing tricks on her.

_It isn't, Police Girl, _his voice said in her head.

"You bloody bastard!" she shouted, shoving him hard.

"Is that anyway to treat an old friend?" he asked. "And what about holding onto this, eh? You don't honour the last wish of someone you care about?" He had a broad grin on his face.

She advanced on him, and he backed up, fetching up against a pillar. She looked ready to deck him right between the eyes. She reached him and grabbed the back of his neck, pulling him down into a fierce kiss.

"How?" she asked when they separated, heading for the entrance to the garage.

He shrugged that loose shrug of his as he slipped the pendant back over her neck. "Not sure, exactly. Just as I started to loose my grip on that pillar, I felt a rush flow into me. I figured that some of the falling rocks must have torn the Writs, unlocking enough of the bindings to let me turn into a mist. I seeped out through the cracks and just collapsed outside the rubble. It took all of my reserves to make it out and I just laid on that island for several days. I healed physically, but my powers still seemed to be drained, and I knew that I needed to get some blood in me. I tried to phase back here, but wound up popping out somewhere in the middle of the ocean about thirty meters down."

He ran a hand through his hair as he slipped an arm around her waist. "I was picked up by a fishing boat and hauled back into mainland Spain. From there I made my way back here. I'm mostly recovered from the ordeal, but," he grinned. "I think a good meal and a drink with a pretty lady would go a long way to finishing my healing. You up to having a friend join you?"

"I don't know," she said, slipping her arm about his waist. "I just lost someone I care about."

"I promise to take it easy. Just dinner tonight."

"It better not be just dinner," she said. "You've put me through Hell for two weeks. You'd better have some sort of plan on paying me back."

He laughed as they passed out onto the street.

"I'm sure you'll figure something out, Police Girl."

They walked on for a few minutes before a voice behind them spoke up.

"Spare change, mate?"

They turned, seeing a man in battered jeans and a dirty shirt standing there, a taller companion beside him.

Seras shook her head. "Sorry, we don't have a lot on us. We were heading to a pub, if you want to join us we'll pay."

The shorter man shook his head and pulled a knife. "I don't think you understood me. Let's try again, lass. Wallet, now."

Seras looked at the blade and then looked at Hunter. She could feel his amusement. _What do you want to do? _she asked him mentally.

_Just play along._

"You know, there's a word for people like you were we're from," he said to the man in a casual tone.

"Oh, and what would that be, mate?" said the mugger in a term that implied that he really didn't care.

"Well, stupid comes to mind," Hunter said as he hauled Cain out from under his jacket. Seras arched an eyebrow. She had left that pistol back at the manor. But then, he had probably just called it to him, like Alucard did sometimes with his pistols. The two pair of eyes across from them latched onto the barrel like vices, following each miniscule motion like their life depended on it.

Which it probably did.

"But then, the term I'm thinking of right now is probably a bit more accurate," he said. _Give them your best smile, Police Girl._

"That term being supper, of course," he said, flashing a fanged grin. He turned to Seras. "Which one do you want, dear?"

She eyed them like one would eye fruit at the market. "Well, the tall one smells delicious, but the shorter one is more my size. You know how I'm trying to watch my figure."

By that time, they had both vanished, running like they were on fire.

"Should we follow them?" he asked idly as he tucked his gun away.

"No," she said, pulling him towards the pub again. "They've probably wet themselves by now and they won't be any trouble."

"Good," he said.

"Neither of them smelled very appetizing."

* * *

_Six Months Later_

The woman ran, her breath coming in ragged gasps. She looked over her shoulder and saw the shambling forms of the creatures chasing her. They were gaining. She turned back to face forward and saw two forms ahead of her. One was a man with long hair in a leather duster; the other was a short woman with a vest hanging open in the front. They were both striding forward, both holding pistols.

_Oh God, _she thought. _What have I gotten myself into?_

The man fired. She waited to feel the impact of the bullet. For a moment she wondered what getting shot felt like. Then she realized that she had run past them, and they were still shooting. She turned, tripping over her feet as she did so. They were both firing at the creatures that had been after her. They were falling into dust one by one as the two people kept firing. The man looked at the woman and tossed his head back at her. The blonde fell back and knelt by her, offering her a hand up.

"You'll be ok, now," she said. "My name is Seras, what's yours?"

"Tammy," she said, trying to catch her breath.

"Are you ok, Tammy? Hurt in any way?"

"No," she looked on as the man entered into close quarters combat, hands and feet shooting out and knocking the creatures off their feet before shooting them. "What are those things?" she asked.

"Pests," the blonde looked back at the man, then at Tammy. "And we're the exterminators."

* * *

_Drum Fill_

I never really feel quite right and I don't know why  
All I know is that something's wrong  
Everytime I look at you you seem so alive.

Tell me how do you do it?  
Walk me through it,  
I'm following every footstep

Maybe on your own you take a cautious step  
Do you want to give it up?

But all I want is for you to SHINE  
Shine down on me  
Shine on this life that's burning out.

I say a lot of things sometimes that don't come out right  
And I act like I don't know why  
I guess the reaction is all I was looking for, yeah

You looked through me,  
You really knew me,  
Like no one has ever looked before

Baby on your own you take a cautious step  
Do you want to give it up?

But all I want is for you to SHINE  
Shine down on me,  
Shine this life that's burning out.

I know, I know, girl you got something  
  
SHINE (Shine it on to me)  
Shine down on me (I wanna feel it)  
Shine on this life that's burning out

_Instrumental break_

Baby on your own you take a cautious step  
Do you wanna give it up?  
  
But all I want is for you to SHINE  
Shine down on me (Just show me something)  
Shine on this life that's burning out (You give me something that I never  
know)  
  
SHINE (It's coming down on you if you can show me the way)  
Shine down on me (I wanna know what's going in on your mind)  
Shine on this life that's burning out

Don't you know I want you to SHINE  
Shine down on me  
Shine on this life that's burning out

* * *

**Preview**

_Seras: _Well, that turned out ok.

_Hunter: _I'd say so. Though, we are kind of stuck together for a while.

_Seras: _You see me complaining? And someone has to show Sir Integra how to use her new abilities.

_Hunter: _Isn't this supposed to be a preview?

_Seras: _What's to preview? This was the last chapter.

_Hunter: _Yeah, what's going on here?

_Author: _I can't let you guys say your goodbyes to the audience?

* * *

A/N: Even though it's done, keep checking back from time to time...I tinker and fix things regularly.


End file.
